One
by Aniseed
Summary: Set in-between the movies. Things turned out differently for Uhura when Spock refused to reassign her to the Enterprise, but she is about to see him for the first time in over a year. Sent to survey New Vulcan, the crew find out why the Vulcans have been so unwilling to share information with the Federation and hope to bring Spock back where he belongs.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first foray into writing for Star Trek so I'm not as knowledgeable as some or as experienced as others, but I fell in love with the reboot and the obsession has shown no sign of stopping.

This story is AU – I started thinking how different things could have been if Spock hadn't reassigned Uhura to the Enterprise like she requested, and went from there.

I was also unhappy about _Into Darkness_ not saying much about what happened to the Vulcans following the first film. So I thought I'd come up with my own intermission for between the two films.

The first chapter is mostly explanation – sorry! And setting up the chain of events that lead us up to the beginning of this story. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

* * *

Her knee bounced beneath her console, heeled boot tapping staccato on the floor tiles.

"Uhura," Jim glared at her foot then caught her eyes. He sighed, wiping his face with his palm. "I know we're all looking forward to seeing him again, but this isn't a social call." He stood and the bridge turned to watch him.

"Spock will be taking the place of Ambassador Sarek because the Vulcans and Starfleet think that it will be… _easier_ if we approach this from a place of familiarity?" He frowned at his word choice then flung his arms in the air before sitting back in his chair.

Uhura kept her eyes on him, watching as he swung in his seat slightly from side to side, chin in palm, fingers tapping on his cheek. He was as unsettled as the rest of them.

"Five minutes, Captain," Sulu said, with more composure than the rest of them could have managed at this point.

Her heart was beating so quickly she couldn't ignore it. She didn't know what her reaction would be to seeing him again. 371 days was a long time by anyone's standards.

Emotions were not steady or stable, especially when directed at one thing. Anger had motivated her after he had refused her request to transfer her to the _Enterprise_ after they had received the distress call from Vulcan, and that anger had ultimately saved her life.

She had volunteered to stay below deck in engineering with Gaila, unable to calm herself enough to reasonably argue her suitability to assist the existing Communications Officer. They had been carrying reams of cabling and other supplies back and forth and up and down the Jeffries tubes from the stores when they'd heard the alarms.

They dropped to the bottom and ran. She would have kept running if Gaila hadn't yanked her into an escape pod and deployed before she'd had time to pull herself up from the floor and strap herself into the seat.

Thrown around, she hadn't remained conscious for long. According to the medics, she's fractured her skull on the console and broken ribs and a leg through the jostling. Gaila hadn't been much better off, cracked vertebrae from the impact of landing – the pod had splinted when it collided with a building on Earth.

They were one of only 3 pods from the _Farragut_ and 15 from the entire fleet.

Gaila felt no remorse for her actions, and Uhura couldn't blame her. She was alive, afterall.

The _Enterprise_ had already saved Earth when she woke up, strapped to a bed in the Academy's sick bay. Her eyes were fixed to the screen on the wall that scrolled through the events of the previous day.

_Vulcan destroyed._

_Fleet wiped out._

_85% of her graduating class and most of her instructors gone._

_Only 25,000 Vulcans left._

She cried and cried until a hypo put her to sleep.

They hadn't been able to repair the damage to her skin – a mini skirt didn't provide much protection against shrapnel, but she didn't care. The silvery lines that criss-crossed her legs was nothing compared to the cost that others had to pay.

Gaila was lucky to have escaped spinal cord damage, but still decided that Earth was the best place for her. Not willing to tempt fate, she took a position to help re-build the fleet.

Uhura had been more convinced of her place in the stars- her linguistic skill now more important than ever. Her fluency in Vulcan had been put to use when the Vulcan refugees had temporarily stayed at the academy whilst New Vulcan was made initially hospitable.

The elders and the skilled left immediately to begin the process of relocation – as had Spock, not even stopping on Earth, but a few Vulcans had been placed into the accommodation quarters that were no longer needed.

They were mainly women who were pregnant or looking after children and it nearly killed her to see the grief breaking through their stoicism. She didn't bring attention to it, not wanting to distress them more, but _I grieve with thee_ didn't satisfy her desire to comfort them, so did everything she could physically do to make the process easier for them to handle.

The language was a comfort to them. They told her stories, recipes, names and family trees and she helped preserve them writing endlessly and finding discs for them to store recordings. She went to the Botanical Science Department and gathered all of the seeds that she could convince them to part with so that they could begin to grow familiar plants and flowers, and did everything else she could think of to make their loss easier to handle.

The younger children were fascinated by her and she became an unofficial child minder, watching them make furniture with the soft wood available to them, amazed at how further developed and capable they were compared to Terran children, and teaching them standard when they asked questions.

Her heart felt like it would burst, seeing the unspoken sadness all around her, but it had turned into a gaping hole when they'd left.

Having never visited the original Vulcan, and only knowing about it from her Vulcan tutoring with Spock and from research, she was excited to see what the people had done in such a short space of time.

Starfleet had been increasing their demands to New Vulcan to be kept up to date with progress of resettlement, but true to form, the Vulcans had not been forthcoming. A year on, they'd had enough and demanded a crew be allowed to conduct a survey and report back to base.

The _Enterprise_ had been chosen because of their role in the rescue of the refugees and the pre-existing relationship between the crew and Spock. Trust did not come easily.

She snapped out of her memories when Kirk granted permission for Spock to beam aboard.

Heart in her throat and flushing with embarrassment at being so distracted, she caught Chekov's glance and gave him a weak smile as she turned to the doors.

They slid open and her heart stopped.

* * *

If you find anything wrong, please let me know! I want to learn.

I plan to update at least every few days.

Reviews are love!


	2. Chapter 2

I just want to thank you for the amazing response I've had so far. It's been two years since I've written anything, so I know I'm pretty rusty, but you guys have helped make this a lot easier. Thank you.

* * *

It wasn't the Spock she remembered.

He stepped onto the Bridge with innate grace, his traditional robes moving with him until he came to a stop in front of Kirk. If he noticed the silence or the dozen eyes on him, he didn't show it.

"Captain."

Stock still, he barely looked like he was breathing. He hadn't been so _rigid_ before, and his gaze had never been so unrelenting. He looked nowhere else but at the man in front of him and made no move to initiate pleasantries.

Kirk was the embodiment of exaggeration compared to Spock's stoicism. Shifting from foot to foot, his wide grin slipped at the impersonal greeting. Uhura cringed as he raised a hand to clap the Vulcan's shoulder but stopped himself before it made impact.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Spock," he said wryly as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I forgot my manners."

The silence grew thick.

"Uh, so how do you want to do this?" Kirk's hands moved from his back to his front before folding them. It had been a long time since he'd seemed so uncertain. But then again, if she remembered correctly from the report, the last time they'd been on the _Enterprise_, Spock had nearly choked him right where they were standing.

"If I may, I will proceed based on the assumption that only the Bridge Crew will be present during the survey." Rhythmic and even, but missing inflection. Uhura frowned. This was Standard spoken like a Vulcan who had never visited Earth, let alone one that had an American mother and spent a good many years living and working amongst Humans.

Kirk nodded and glanced at Uhura and Sulu, no doubt picking up on the disparity between the old Spock and the one right in front of them. She pretended not to notice, but Sulu shifted in his seat. "You would be correct in your assumption."

Spock did not nod, tilt his head or lift his eyebrow, tics which she at least had come to expect from a conversation with him. Her stomach fell.

"Ambassador Sarek has agreed with the Admiral that a duration of seven Terran days will be sufficient time to view New Vulcan and gain enough data to compile a satisfactory report. Each day has been scheduled with a number of events as well as allowing time for recreational activities. You will be staying in the Embassy in the Ambassadorial Suite, where you will find copies of the itinerary. Everything you need will be provided.

"The Ambassador, myself, or a combination of Vulcans from the Ambassador's security detail will escort you-"

"Spock, are you trying to warn us that we aren't trusted? Because I find it highly unlikely that we're going to be in any real danger."

Not even a flinch at the interruption.

"Captain, I was stating that you will be escorted to the various destinations because the schedule is effectual and time cannot be wasted by people getting lost. You are unfamiliar with the organization of buildings and streets, and as a result, an escort is logical. It is also more efficient to have questions answered as you ask them, rather than them being explained in hindsight."

Kirk scratched his hair before refolding his arms, visibly uncomfortable with the Vulcan's unerring attention. "I see. Sorry for jumping in like that, but we're going in blind, and you can't blame me for assuming – it's been a long hard slog to get to this point."

Again, Spock did not answer. Uhura wanted to beg him to respond to the human mannerisms like he used to, to look at her because she was dying to be acknowledged, and to give any sign that he was the person they knew. The man in the cloak was a stranger.

With a sigh and looking around at his crew, probably to see if others were as confused as he was, Kirk shifted his weight to one foot and gestured at Spock to continue with his obviously pre-prepared speech.

"Besides Lieutenant Uhura, I doubt you have much experience with Vulcans or our culture." She started at her name and blinked. His eyes hadn't moved, but it was the first sign that he had recognized any of them besides Kirk at all. She forced herself to remain impassive, though her breath caught and her fingers gripped the armrests of her chair.

"I will share some basic knowledge of our customs so you do not cause yourselves or my people undue embarrassment." Uhura flinched at the term 'my people'. He'd never aligned himself so completely before, always having emphasized his duality. "Touching is forbidden, unless the Vulcan in question provides adequate expression that they do not find the idea displeasing. Permission will always be verbal – this is applicable to all scenarios. Asking for clarification of intent will not be questioned as it is more efficient than an assumed understanding.

"We do not eat with our hands, and whilst it will not cause offense if you choose to do so, it will be seen as a sign of respect to many of the elders if you attempt to adhere to this custom."

Finally, something that shows that he was thinking on their behalf.

"The demise of Vulcan should not be discussed, unless the topic is initiated by a Vulcan. Similarly, comparisons between New Vulcan and Vulcan should not be made, nor should any change in cultural practices."

Uhura felt like he was directing that last comment at her, because she doubted that anyone else that would be taking part knew anything about the original Vulcan, besides the fact that it was hot.

"If you are unsure of anything, inquire and you shall be answered as well as we are able. If these small concessions are made, then I predict that no offense shall be caused."

Kirk cleared his throat and made his way back to the Captain's chair to escape the proximity to Spock. "Thanks for the warning – I'm sure the crew will do their best to follow these directions." He nodded. "Do any of you have any questions that need answering now, before we leave the ship? Like Spock said, it's best to get them answered straight away." His broad smile did not receive a response from the Vulcan, who's expression remained as flat as it had for the entire conversation.

Nobody seemed brave enough to ask anything. Flustered looks passed from person to person, and poor Chekov looked close to panic. In the end, the desire for his attention outweighed the risk of sounding stupid, so Uhura steeled herself before getting to her feet. The expressions of the crew flashed from relief to dread as she cleared her throat.

"Osu Spock, is there anything useful that you could tell us about the conditions of New Vulcan itself? I wish to be better prepared for the survey but this is difficult as I do not know what to expect."

Her stomach flipped as he finally turned to face her, and she held her breath to stop herself from reacting to his gaze. There was no recognition, no warmth in his eyes and no barely imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth that she had been so used to seeing when she had asked him questions. He hadn't cared how stupid they could be, pleased that he could help her to better understand the topic at hand.

In the same steady tone, he answered mainly in facts. "New Vulcan has a gravity 0.6% higher than that of Earth, so do not be alarmed if you find yourselves becoming more fatigued than usual when undertaking physical activity. The sun is closer, thus stronger than you are used to and the season is akin to your summer, so the days are longer. As a result, the heat may bring discomfort and burning to your skin. You may find it preferable to wear thin layers that reduce the exposure of skin in addition to UV block. The terrain is mountainous and dusty, so boots are advised, even though it is improbable that you will be expected to walk any great distance."

A flush crept up her neck and across her cheekbones at his attention and it was all she could to avoid breaking eye contact. "Thank you." She nodded her head before returning to her seat, but Spock's attention slid back to Kirk.

"Anyone else? No? Thanks, Spock, for giving us warning and giving us a clue what to expect. We won't let you down."

"Captain, you answer only to Starfleet."

Kirk openly flinched at the implied meaning but recovered quickly. "I know, but with our previous acquaintance, I'd hate for you to be embarrassed by us." He clapped his hands to mask the fact that Spock didn't answer. "We've kept you long enough, are we still due at 1500 hours?"

"The expectations have not changed."

"Great, then we will see you in a couple of hours."

Without a word of departure, Spock turned and left, robe gliding dramatically behind him

As soon as the doors slid shut, Kirk slumped in his seat.

"Please, God, someone tell me that was weird."

McCoy pushed off of the far wall he'd been leaning against and nodded in agreement. "He was never the friendliest chap but that was somethin' else." He cracked his knuckled absently. "Uhura, you probably understand this better than we do- what's goin' on?"

Her arms folded around herself and her voice sounded sad to her ears. "I don't know exactly. From what I can guess, being here under pressure, surrounded by other Vulcans constantly has made him suppress his more human characteristics." She shook her head. "They were probably frowned upon on Vulcan before, but I can only imagine how they'd be seen now."

"The importance of being 'Vulcan' is probably more valued than ever," Sulu added, rubbing a finger over his chin.

McCoy barked out a sarcastic laugh. "You mean we were lucky to have had the so-cuddly version while we did?"

"You have to remember that Spock was half-human and raised by a human mother, Bones," Uhura said, brushing imaginary lint from her trousers. "That had to have had an effect. Not to mention spending so much time with humans – he learnt to adapt. He accepted our mannerisms and speech patterns, and replicated them. It's exactly what I try to do when I meet people from other planets and cultures."

Kirk moaned and rolled his head into his hands. "I don't know how to manage this. It was exhausting just with Spock! Let alone the Ambassador and Lord knows who else."

"Ambassador Sarek will likely be easier to talk to – it is in his job description afterall." Her attempt at humour fell flat and Kirk looked even more dejected.

"Yeah but we've had no real contact with him since the refugees left. He's probably gone all extreme like Spock has."

Uhura rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Captain, with all due respect, stop whining. They've gone through the most horrendous and difficult thing that could probably happen. Empathy is probably the most important thing to remember here."

"Aw, Uhura, I know I'm being childish, but I really can't see a way of not screwing this up. It's the most important thing we've had to do since the whole thing that got us into this mess. And Spock…"

McCoy took this one, and Uhura was relieved. She didn't know how to reassure Kirk about the change they'd seen in him without making it obvious how she felt about it.

"He's the same guy in different circumstances, I guess." He shrugged and patted Kirk on the shoulder. "Remember that he's just as capable of saving your life as ending it, Jim, and I'm sure you'll tread that fine line perfectly."

The smile that prompted was weak, not blinding, but it did the job.

"Right everyone, you have just under two hours to prepare for departure. Meet back here at 1430 hours. And don't forget your boots."

They all got up from their stations, which were quickly filled with the beta-crew, and trudged towards the door. The overwhelming sense of dread was palpable.

Sulu put an arm around her shoulder and squeezed in an uncharacteristic display of affection. "Uhura, if you don't mind, I'm going to stick by close to you."

She rested her head against his shoulder briefly as the doors to the turbo lift slid shut. "I'll be grateful for the company."

"I don't know what kind of relationship you had with Spock at the academy, but try not to let the differences get to you, okay?"

"He helped me practice my languages. The other language teachers didn't know as many dialects and registers as he does. We got to know each other pretty well, I think." She pushed down the memory of how their relationship had been slowly shifting in the last few weeks before the incident. It wouldn't do any good to revisit the what-if's and might-have-beens.

He gave her another squeeze before letting go. "It's been tough, seeing this happen. But I'm kinda glad that it's Spock that's dealing with this - If anyone is capable of getting through this, I reckon it's him. You didn't see him on the Bridge that day, but if anyone can take care of themselves, it's him."

She muttered an affirmation that she didn't believe. Physically, he might be able to cope, but emotionally? Seeing his vacant eyes was unnerving, but she'd seen it in the refugees. The children had understood intellectually, but they were still young and didn't have the weight of their known world disappearing. A brightness had remained in them, and compared to the hollow expressions of the adult Vulcans she'd met and attended to, it made all the difference. She wasn't sure if they could ever recover from that.

They parted when the doors opened and Uhura slipped into her quarters and perched on the edge of her bed.

Her bag was already packed with the loose layers she'd expected she'd need, another uniform which she hoped she wouldn't, no matter how much more comfortable she was now she was allowed to wear trousers, and the various things she'd need for a week. If she surmised correctly, the Vulcans would find it logical to make various items available to their guests, so she wasn't worried that she'd missed anything. Worst case scenario, she'd just have to beam back aboard and get what she needed before returning.

Unfortunately, this earlier preparation fueled by nerves at seeing Spock again meant that she had nothing to do to occupy the hour she had to wait.

Unable to distract herself, she stared at the door and found herself grieving the friend she'd never quite had.

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I hope you enjoyed it – reviews are love!

And as always, feedback is appreciated. I wish to learn!


	3. Chapter 3

Italicized conversation is in Vulcan.

Disclaimer: As always, not mine.

I'm speechless at the support this story has had so far! Thank you.

Enjoy!

* * *

With a shaky breath, Uhura pushed herself up and grabbed her carry-bag.

As she walked back to the Bridge, she couldn't help but think that under different circumstances, she would be overjoyed.

The _Enterprise_ had spent the last nine months on a propaganda mission of sorts, travelling from planet to planet, reassuring the nations of their safety and Starfleet's commitment to protect them. The work had been dull but her linguistic skills had much improved, so it would be unfair of her to look upon it badly. Besides, they'd all appreciated the safe nature of the trips.

Even so, they'd begun to grow restless.

"Uhura! Great, we're all here." Kirk rubbed his hands together and grinned, his mood a great deal brighter than it had been an hour earlier. He winked, all boyish charm and enthusiasm. "I relieved the others – thought it would be better to have a few people I can trust than a bigger party, you know, to lower the risk of disaster."

"Jim, you're acting like this is a suicide mission." Even McCoy was getting tired of his pessimism.

"I'm just saying they obviously don't want people to know what's going on there. There's a reason they're only allowing contact now."

Uhura scowled. That wasn't it. He was hiding something. His smile was forced now but she let it be. She'd ask about it later.

"So is this it?" McCoy, Kirk, Sulu and Chekov. It was sparse.

"Yep. Like I said, people I trust. You're all pleasant," he raised an eyebrow at McCoy who rolled his eyes in return. "And you all have tact. You're also familiar with the protocol and what got us into this mess in the first place. We have different areas of experience so will notice different things."

"Keptin, what are we expected to notice, exactly?" Chekov was sat slumped against the wall, hands folded in his lap. Uhura gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile – he seemed to have taken all of Kirk's doubts to heart.

"Before you turn in for the night, just make a log entry of what you've seen and what you've been told." Kirk shrugged. "We're not here for a detailed report, just a cursory one. Starfleet haven't asked for any information in particular, so just use your common sense. Between the five of us, we should cover everything."

"Captain, shall we send the transmissions immediately?" She asked. "Or would it be better to wait until we have completed the survey when we can edit if necessary?"

"Wait to send them." His chronometer chirped, telling them it was time to leave. They picked up their bags and made their way into the turbo lift. Uhura tried to ignore her unsteady legs.

Putting out an arm to stop them from entering the Transporter Room, Kirk became serious. "Really this will be fine. I know I must seem as emotionally stable as a see-saw, but I'm sure that Spock will look after us." His mouth turned up at the corners and his eyes gleamed. "And staying a week in the Embassy won't be that much of a hardship."

Sulu caught Uhura's eye before they stepped onto the pads. He also suspected Kirk was hiding something, and from the hard set of his mouth, McCoy did too. The only one seemingly oblivious was Chekov, whose blues eyes were squeezed shut and pale knuckles grew whiter at his tight grip on the handles of his bag.

His reaction was curious as well.

She sighed, puffing her cheeks out like a disgruntled child. If anything, Uhura knew this wouldn't be an event free week.

* * *

Spock was there to greet them, though he gave no actual greeting. Three Vulcans in grey robes took their bags and promptly disappeared, leaving the Uhura thoroughly disorientated. Though they were indoors, the air felt heavy in her lungs, a vaguely oppressive sensation that reminded her of scorching summers at home.

Immobile as he had been when they saw him on the Bridge, he began to speak before they'd got their bearings.

"Welcome to New Vulcan. You will find your bags in your quarters."

They nodded their greetings and Spock continued. "The Ambassador considered it prudent to offer you the opportunity of walking to the Embassy. It will provide a chance to see the city briefly before your business in the following days and gain an initial impression of our life here. Is this objectionable?"

Kirk stepped forward with an exaggerating sway of his shoulders, probably in compensation to Spock's rigidity. "That sounds perfect. Are we leaving now?"

"That was my intention."

The Captain swept an arm infront of him. "Then by all means, lead the way."

Spock turned on his heel and walked, not waiting to make sure they were following. Uhura felt Sulu's eyes on her, searching for a reaction, but chose to ignore it. She was determined to act like nothing was wrong. It made no sense to take offense. Setting her shoulders in determination and taking a deep breath, she strode ahead of Kirk and Bones, who were muttering something to each other, and sought to close the gap between them and Spock.

The corridor was short and dimly lit, but the low lighting didn't hide the stares of the Vulcans that they passed. The attention was not unwelcome but it still unnerved her. They stepped through a sliding door which unexpectedly led them outside. She blinked rapidly, raising her hand to shield her from the intensity of the sun, the sudden brightness making her almost blind.

"Jesus, you weren't exaggerating when you said the sun was strong," McCoy's face wrinkled in displeasure as he squinted and tried to block the light with his arm.

"Vulcans do not exaggerate."

"Chekov, you put UV block on before we left? If I can feel it prickling my skin already, you'll stand no chance with your _delicate_ complexion."

"I have, Doctor." Chekov nodded before digging in his pocket. "I also have a hat." He unrolled a piece of black fabric and popped it out to reveal a black sunhat with an even, round rim. Uhura smiled at his innocence as he shoved it on his head, golden curls poking out around his neck.

"Good lad," McCoy said, laughter lightening his tone. "Jim?"

Kirk dismissed the worry with a flap of his hand. "Don't worry about me, Bones. Perfect opportunity for a tan."

"I'll see you later for the burn cream then."

Sulu snorted, seemingly unaffected by the increased temperature. "I expect you feel right at home, Uhura?"

She nodded and smiled, feeling the corners of her eyes crease as she tipped her face up to the sky. "It's nice to feel the sun again." Straighening, she noticed Spock was watching her. A flush crept up her cheeks so she ducked her head. "Which way are we going, Osu Spock?"

He blinked slowly before answering. "A route through the city center seems most appropriate."

Uhura was grateful for the more relaxed pace – she didn't know where to look first, desperate not to miss anything.

It was amazing to see so many buildings standing completed, some three and four storeys tall. Shops and places to eat had colorful marquees to shield customers from the sun while they browsed the racks and ate at the beautiful wooden tables. She recognized the style from the ones the children carved and made whilst staying at the academy. It made her glad.

The quiet atmosphere was punctuated by the squeaking and chattering of insects and the bird-like creatures that perched on the rooves and walls. They were a cool brown but looked to be covered in scales rather than feathers.

The number of Vulcans present and walking the streets, carrying boxes and materials was unexpected. They watched them with a certain level of wariness, but kept their distance. She didn't know how to bring this up to Spock, so she said nothing. Kirk however, had no qualms.

"Spock, there's a lot more people here than I thought there'd be."

They came to a stop outside the Vulcan equivalent to a pottery shed, where a grey haired Vulcan viewed them impassively before returning to his wheel. The shelves that surrounded him were full of _asenoi _ in many different shapes and sizes.

"The initial Terran news estimates of 25,000 were grossly inaccurate."

"But we couldn't have had more than a few thousand refugees at the Academy." Kirk frowned and looked at McCoy, who shrugged and went back to studying a blue _asenoi_ that had ridges reminiscent of a spider crab shell.

"As you are no doubt aware, Vulcan had a number of colonies."

"And rich ones too, by the looks of it," McCoy muttered, glancing at the carvings that surrounded the buildings and entrances of the buildings around them and the rich fabrics that a number of the apparently more affluent Vulcans were wearing that passed by.

"You are correct in your statement, Doctor. A number of the colonies act as an equivalent to a resort location, where affluent families have a second home, whilst others resided off-world permanently. A number of antiques and traditional objects were saved as a result. This does not the number that were on Ships at the time."

Kirk wasn't appeased. "But that doesn't explain why the Federation wasn't made aware-"

"Captain," Uhura interjected, looking at him squarely. "Starfleet are not unintelligent. It wouldn't have made sense to waste time sharing information that they knew the Fleet had access to. The Vulcans can hardly be blamed for an oversight." She sighed and rolled a small stone under her boot. "Besides, I image they recognized the mis-step and chose not to publically address it."

"I suppose you knew?" Kirk's tone wasn't hard, but a mixture of irritation and good humour.

She nodded, returning his shadow of a smile. "I had my suspicions. When I heard the estimation in the sick bay I thought it sounded a little low, and I was certain after working so closely with the refugees – it's impossible to not pick up a few things when you understand what's being said."

Her eyes flicked to Spock and she was stunned to see what looked like the familiar expression of amusement in his features – the glint in his eyes and the slight tensing of his cheeks. She had to look away, not trusting her own face not to betray the joy she was feeling at the revelation. She was probably mistaken, but didn't want to believe it.

"I am aware of your actions regarding the women and children that were unable to access a colony or a ship, Lieutenant." His tone betrayed nothing of the emotion she thought she saw, and when she looked up, all traces of it had gone. "_Itar-bosh_."

She looked to the ground, uncharacteristically bashful at finding herself unable to be the subject of that unrelenting gaze. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure."

"Spock, what is this thing?" McCoy broke ended the moment by picking up the _asenoi_ he had been admiring.

"It holds a candle and serves as the focal point during meditation."

"Do all Vulcans have them?"

"It is customary, yes."

"Huh." He set it back on the shelf, ignoring the stare of the potter. "Looks like he chose the right profession then."

"Indeed. I believe that a number of Vulcans are in frequent need of replacements."

Uhura's brow furrowed . From what she knew, an _asenoi_ was not usually replaced – they served no decorative purpose. Breakage was the only logical reason to replace them and she shuddered to think of the emotional turmoil that was necessary for a meditating Vulcan to break one.

"We do not have much further to go," Spock said before setting off again at the same steady pace as before. She watched him for a moment, marveling at grace – he looked like he was floating.

"Keep up," Sulu whispered in her ear as he passed, winking at her as he did so. She shrugged and moved beside him.

"What they've achieved is nothing short of remarkable. This place looks like it's been developing for centuries, not built in one year." Sulu ran his hand along the top of a flowering hedgerow that separated a shop selling loose-leaf tea in tall, wide canisters from the rest of the street. He examined the bright pink flower for a moment, rubbing a petal between his thumb and forefinger gently. "And the fact that they've managed to cultivate Vulcan flora in a foreign habitat so quickly is amazing."

Uhura's laugh was gentle as she tugged Sulu away from the hedge. "Come on, we don't want to get left behind." His grin was apologetic as they hurried to catch up. "I have no idea how they've managed it. I can't imagine a similar project with humans would go as smoothly. Do you think Starfleet will be put out by the news? I think they were kind of hoping that the secrecy was because they were embarrassed of their slow progress or something."

"Probably." Sulu raised his hand to point something when he was cut off by a high-pitched shout.

"Osa Uhura, _qual se tu?_" A little girl ran up to her and pulled her sleeve, blinking at her with her big blue eyes.

"T'Saria! Yes it's me – I didn't think I'd see you here!" Uhura's smile was beaming and her heart was joyous as she pulled the girl to her side to make sure she was out of the way of the other Vulcans, who were open in their disapproval of the exchange. "Where is your mother?"

"She is there." T'Saria pointed towards a stall with rolls of fabric propped up against a wooden frame. When she saw the tall, lithe figure heading towards them, the little girl held her palm up in invitation to Uhura, who couldn't bring herself to deny her.

She pressed her fingertips against the much smaller ones and braced herself against the onslaught of emotions and snippets of information.

_Glad, missing, sad, curious, confused, hopeful._

Her laugh was breathless when T'Saria let her go. "Thank you, T'Saria. I missed you too and I am also glad to see you again."

"T'Saria, you know better than to be improper." T'Pan joined them and looked at her daughter. Uhura knew she was communicating with her through their bond, and explained that to Sulu when he looked at her, bemused.

"Do not worry, T'Pan, no offence was caused." She smiled again at T'Sara, who moved closer to her mother with sudden shyness. "T'Saria, you're much bigger than I remember, and your hair is at least half as long again."

"That is because I am 348 Terran days older than when I saw you last. You have not changed."

Uhura's laugher bubbled happily. She looked up to see Spock, McCoy and Kirk had come back and were watching the exchange. McCoy crossed his arms and was studying T'Saria, Kirk was looking between the three of them, as bemused as Sulu. Spock was as impassive as ever.

"I trust you are well?" She asked T'Pan, resisting the urge to stroke the girls black shiny hair like she used to. It wouldn't be proper here and she doubted the action would be as welcome as it once had been.

"You find us both in good health, Uhura. May I inquire regarding your presence on New Vulcan?" She looked to Spock briefly, but returned her attention to Uhura.

"We are guests of Ambassador Sarek for a duration of seven days." She welcomed high register she had to adopt to prevent misunderstanding – without the restraint she didn't think they'd understand the babbling she'd probably unleash on them.

"I understand." She looked at her daughter and something akin to fondness flashed across her features as T'Saria obviously had asked her something. "If you would be agreeable, we request your company for tea – I surmise that you will find free time in seven days to make this a possibility?"

Uhura nodded happily. "That would be most agreeable indeed, thank you for your kind offer. I'm not sure when I will have time though, as I have not seen the itinerary for our visit." She looked at Spock and hoped that he could tell her when. Her desire to go must have been obvious because he answered immediately.

"T'Pan, the Lieutenant will have time tomorrow if she is willing to forego a visit to the manufacturing quarter."

"Then I will be grateful to accept your offer for tea tomorrow." She could hardly keep herself from clapping.

T'Pan gave a shallow bow in confirmation before turning to Spock. "_I would be honoured with your presence, Osu Spock, if you so wish it._"

"_I am honoured to accept_."

Uhura hadn't expected that. Her happiness increased two fold and she felt her cheeks ache with the size of her smile.

"We look forward to our meeting tomorrow, Uhura. Osu Spock." She bowed deeper this time, as did T'Saria. Spock returned the gesture and Uhura contented herself with a nod to each of them and a smile and a wave when T'Saria turned to look at her when they walked away.

Kirk cleared his throat. "So what was that?"

Uhura linked her arm through Sulu's before letting it go, remembering where they were. "I spent a lot of time looking after T'Saria when she stayed at the Academy. T'Pan was heavily involved in the process of getting the refugees to New Vulcan. T'Saria showed a surprising fondness for baking." She grinned at the memory. "It was remarkable – she could tell the how much things weighed by looking at it or by picking it up, and was so quick to adjust recipes according to number of servings. If they tried to teach me maths like that at school, I'm sure I would have enjoyed it much more."

"And what was that thing with your fingers?" McCoy asked, though she guessed he knew already, but wanted her to confirm it.

She sighed. "Vulcans are touch-telepaths, as you know. She shared with me her surprise and how glad she was to see me again. She lost her father and brother, and was in a state similar to shock when I started looking after her, so that was how she communicated with me for the first few weeks. She and her mother were some of the last to leave, so I spent a lot of time with her." She couldn't bring herself to look at Spock. "It wasn't the proper thing to do, but I wasn't going to force her to speak to me if she didn't want to."

McCoy's eyebrows had risen high on his forehead. "What does it feel like?"

She flushed as her eyes darted to Spock before settling on the space behind McCoy's head. "Not unpleasant. It's strange to begin with, but not especially invasive. You have a choice whether to share or not, and I never did. T'Saria and some of the really young children are the only ones that ever spoke to me that way, so I can't say for sure what an adult presence is like." Uhura shifted uncomfortably before making a show of looking at her chronometer. "Sorry to have held everyone up."

Spock took the hint and nodded sharply, his face back to the blank mask. "The walk will be a further twenty minutes. When we reach the Embassy, you will have time to settle before a tour and dinner. The evening has been left free for your own activities."

They resumed walking, and even Uhura was glad that they would be inside soon. The heat was getting too much and her eyes were strained from squinting in the sun. Her boots were covered in the thin, sandy coloured dust, but somehow Spock's robes were spotless. If she had to wear her uniform skirt she was sure her legs would be red raw from the grit rubbing against her skin, so that was something.

She fell into step with Chekov, who was looking about in wonder. "Isn't it beautiful, Uhura?"

"It is." And it was. The colours were warm and the city was so vibrant, yet calm. Peaceful.

"Russia is the opposite. Dark and very busy. And mostly very very cold." He laughed. "I am grateful I have my hat. Kirk is looking sorry! His ears are bright red!" Uhura brought her fingers up to her own and rubbed them in sympathy.

"McCoy was right about needing that burn cream after all."

They were silent for a moment as they passed what looked like a museum, judging by the steps to the pillared entrance.

"I'm glad I came – I nearly asked the Keptin if I could stay behind on ship."

"Why? For one I'm very glad you decided to join us."

His nose screwed up like it did sometimes when he was thinking of how to say something in Standard.

"Do you want to speak in Russian? I don't mind."

"No, no, thank you though. I need to practice. I'm still not good." He took a deep breath. "You will probably understand. Spock was my tutor." He lowered his voice and tilted his head close to hers as if sharing a secret. "He found me and told me to join Starfleet. At home, I was a boy very good at understanding maths and science but would have ended up being a school teacher or working in a factory. He helped my Standard become good enough to enter the Academy. It is because of him that I am here."

Hearing his sadness, she risked reaching between them and giving his hand a squeeze. "I know it's hard seeing him like this."

Chekov shook his head and he had to put a hand up to stop his hat from falling off. "I was afraid of him being different, but I don't think he is. I don't think he remembers how to be how he was. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

They didn't say anything else until they had to drag Sulu away from a shop selling seeds and plants. "I wish I could speak Vulcan," he said, frustrated after not understanding the plaques that were propped up against the pots on the stand.

"If we have time, we'll come back and I'll translate. Or you could ask Spock."

Sulu winced and Uhura felt a jolt of irritation. "I don't want to bother him with questions about seeds. He's got enough to be getting on with."

"You never know, he might enjoy talking to you about it."

By the way that Spock's head had tilted slightly towards them, she was sure that was the case.

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Chekov was right, just like Bones had been earlier on the Bridge.

"Well would you look at that." Kirk let out a low whistle as they turned the corner and the Embassy came into sight. "Spock, how did you manage all of this in such a short amount of time? The whole city, from what we've seen, looks like it's always been here." Uhura had to admit that it was nice to hear Kirk treating Spock like he would everyone else.

"There is no logic in going to the effort of constructing a temporary structure when you have the resources to build a permanent one."

"So you're saying that everyone that could help got involved."

"Indeed."

"That must have been a lot of people."

Spock didn't answer, which meant that he thought the answer was a given.

The building got more impressive the closer they got. It wasn't elaborate or heavily ornamented; the impact was mostly from its sheer size and the pearly colour of the stone. It was an iridescent, almost pearl-like in sheen.

"It's beautiful," she blurted, and regretted it instantly.

"The natural stone here does have a quality that is aesthetically pleasing. It's nearest Terran equivalent is marble." His agreement made her cheeks warm and she pointedly kept from responding.

Nothing else was said until they were inside the foyer, all but Spock groaning in relief to be in the shade. It was surprisingly cool inside, the large windows making the most of the slight breeze and the floors and walls, uncovered but for a few tapestries and a long stretch of carpet which helped to keep heat from being trapped. They used similar methods in her home and she felt instantly comforted. Some things truly were universal.

"You will be shown to your quarters and the tour will be given at 1800 hours by one of the members of staff. I will see you at 0800 tomorrow to take you to the Agricultural Institute."

"You're not staying?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Spock looked at her, eyes blank. "I am required at the Space Port."

"Of course. Thank you for today." They all muttered their thanks and Spock remained unmoving, not even saying how unnecessary the sentiment was. Another pang at how things used to be.

A Vulcan with fair hair cut into the customary style appeared and said he was to show them to their rooms. When Uhura turned, Spock had already gone. She trudged after the others, letting herself feel her exhaustion.

The warm air after being on the cool ship for so long had the effect of making her limbs feel heavy and her movements sluggish. The increased gravity probably didn't help.

Her room was the first one in the corridor and her carry-bag was placed neatly on the floor at the end of her bed. The room was comfortable, with a moderately sized bed, a desk, chair, sofa area and a low table with a pitcher of fruit juice and a glass set squarely in the centre.

She drank three glasses in a row, her dry throat immediately soothed.

She didn't share the adjoining bathroom, so was glad to be able to devote most of the 45 minutes they had before the tour to having a shower.

Instantly refreshed as soon as she stood underneath the cool spray, she closed her eyes and let herself look forward to tomorrow. She didn't know what to expect from this evening or from the Agricultural institute, but she was sure that the tea party would be interesting.

To spend time with T'Saria again would be wonderful, and having Spock's company made the prospect seem all the better.

* * *

This is longer than the previous chapters, and is about the length that the rest will be.

As always, reviews are love and I love to hear from you!

Things are starting to pick up...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thank you for all of your support. I can't believe this story has had so many views and gained so many followers!I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Get ready- it's a long one.

* * *

"Who knew Vulcan food was so rich?" McCoy rubbed his stomach. "I still feel full twelve hours later."

"It's to do with their body density," Uhura said, tucking her ponytail underneath the protective cap they had to wear. Combined with the bodysuits and cloth overshoes, she couldn't say it was the most fashionable thing she'd ever worn. "They require more fats and calories than humans do."

"But they're all so _lean_," Kirk openly admired the agricultural scientists that were pointedly ignoring their presence in the de-contamination area.

"Well consuming more food than you require is… _illogical_," McCoy said with a raised eyebrow. Even Uhura couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at her lips. Her outlook was brighter than it had been in months, partly due to the prospect of tea with T'Saria, her mother and Spock, but also a lingering effect of the previous evening.

The Embassy was a beautiful building. Many of the internal walls and staircases had been built in the same glowing stone as the external walls, which made the rooms feel both majestic and bright. Tapestries seemed to be the only wall coverings in the state rooms, whilst the smaller, more private spaces were rendered in warm browns and greys.

The décor was consistently beautiful but it managed to not be ostentatious. The furniture itself provided much of the decoration; the sizes much larger than the Earth equivalents, and was intricately carved to depict certain objects, scenes or places from Vulcan history and mythology. It was more fanciful than Uhura had expected, but the more she saw, the more she realized that they placed a high value on art work.

Many of the smaller tables were left with their tops bare, and when she enquired, she was told they were to remain free to display the gifts from visiting diplomats, as per tradition, which she took to mean that the Vulcans did not intend to remain secluded indefinitely. It was a promising sign.

As the Ambassador was unable to join them for dinner, they were shown to a private dining hall and given what McCoy had jokingly called "Vulcan tapas".

The men had been tentative at first, looking at each other with guarded expressions, daring each other to take the first step. She didn't blame them – the colours and textures of Vulcan cuisine differed enormously to the ones found on Earth, or many other planets really.

She had sighed exaggeratedly after Chekov had poked a fork into one of the dishes with a wrinkled nose. "Have the plomeek soup if you're too afraid of anything else. Sulu it's the dish by your elbow. The purple one. Spock gave me some before. It's nice – a bit like butternut squash but spicier."

She'd spoken before she'd thought about what she was saying. The raised eyebrows and inquiring looks meant that they were curious as to how she had ended up sharing a meal with Spock of all people. She had pretended not to notice, glad that the low lighting would make her dark flush less obvious, and had immediately busied herself filling her plate.

Once they'd started eating, they became enthusiastic, and Sulu's eagerness to voice his enjoyment had lightened the mood considerably.

They felt like they were on holiday – the warmth was a welcome change to the cool re-circulated air on the ship and the natural sunlight, once directly out of it, was a marked improvement to the near constant artificial brightness of the _Enterprise_.

They had retired to their quarters full and content, with Chekov determined to reprogramme the replicators so they could enjoy the meals again.

Breakfast had been more modest, with fruits, teas and a strange grain similar to porridge available, but Uhura was glad to see that everybody's spirits were high because the day was going to be tiring by anyone's standards.

A tour of the Agricultural Facility was scheduled for the morning, with Uhura leaving for tea whilst the others went to view the Manufacturing Centre. That evening they were due for a traditional state dinner with Ambassador Sarek and other important Vulcans.

Kirk fastened his body suit and rubbed his stomach self-conciously as a male scientist stepped into his own protective wear before gliding into the de-contamination shower. "I don't think I'll be having much for lunch, especially as dinner is set to last for four hours. Is that normal?"

Uhura huffed as she tugged at the cap. It pulled uncomfortably around her hairline. "Didn't any of you pay attention to your xeno-culture classes? It's quite short for a ceremonial dinner actually. It's not uncommon for them to last six or seven." Giving up and accepting that she'd spend the morning in pain, she folded her arms. "Now are we ready to go?"

The decontamination took seconds but she stepped out the other side and rubbed her cheeks. "That always makes my skin feel so dry."

"There is a re-hydrating serum in the dispenser to your right." A tall woman stood with her head at a slight incline when Uhura smiled and thanked her. "Prolonged and repeated exposure to the rays used in decontamination causes damage to the first, second and third layers of the epidermis. This in turn can create cracked and chapped skin in the areas that are frequently flexed such as the space between fingers and the areas around the mouth and eyes. It is preferable to act to prevent such occurances rather than treat them when discomfort and potential infection has taken effect."

Uhura rubbed a small amount of the thick orange cream across the bridge of her nose. "It smells similar to aloe vera."

"Indeed. The plant from which the serum is derived has marked similarities to the Terran plant."

All but McCoy followed suit in applying the cream, with Kirk sighing in delight when he patted it onto the tips of his ears. "It works a treat on sunburn."

If the scientist was confused at Kirk's choice of words, she didn't show it, as she promptly walked off, clearly expecting them to follow. Uhura rubbed a bit of the orange on Chekov's cheek that he had missed, and was rewarded with a blush and a shy smile, before they joined the others.

The scientist clearly didn't think that sharing her name with them was necessary, as she didn't introduce herself before launching into a speech in the rhythmic, even tone typical of Vulcans.

"I was told that you expect a basic explanation of our work here. However, I am unsure what degree of information is encapsulated by the term 'basic', as the definition varies widely according to the audience. I am aware from your positions aboard the _Enterprise_ mean that you are considered especially intelligent for humans, though only in certain areas. As such, I do not wish to insult you by providing you with information that you are incapable of understanding." She tilted her head a minute amount, a much less pronounced version of the gesture they associated with Spock. "I require you to help me with this issue."

"Um, Sulu, you're the expert on plants so I'll leave it to you to explain." Kirk gave him an apologetic smile as the scientist focused her attention on the helmsman, who to his credit, didn't seem to be flustered.

"My knowledge is far from expert, but I will tell you the expectations that Starfleet have of our report and you can adjust your tour accordingly. Is that satisfactory?" He kept eye contact with the Vulcan as he spoke, and Uhura was impressed with the formal way he phrased his sentences. It would be much easier for the scientist to understand, rather than the colloquialisms Kirk and McCoy constantly used. And Chekov's accent was strong when he was feeling any extremes of emotion, so it was good to know that Sulu could be relied on.

"Indeed."

"We are required to find out the objectives of your research here and what gains you have made so far – the more general the better. We don't need to know the details of your research. We also need to see for ourselves some of your work to corroborate our statements."

The scientist's nod was almost imperceptible. "Are there any specific areas you wish to see?"

Sulu glanced around, but seemed to find nothing he wanted from the blank stares, answered, "We will be happy with whatever you want to share with us."

"Very well." She paused and swept her gaze over them. "Our objective thus far has been to establish an agricultural basis on New Vulcan. The land is similar to Vulcan, though it rains more frequently, the soil is not as alkaline and the air pressure more changeable. As a result, we have had to genetically engineer pre-existing samples of Vulcan crops to withstand the differences in rainfall, soil acidity and the effects of the wind."

"I assume you used the properties of the native plant life to counter these?"

"That is correct. We have also spent a great deal of time assessing the native fauna. Only a small amount of the plants are edible, and the most probable explanation is that this is a result of the lack of cultivation over the plant's natural evolution."

"How so?" Kirk asked, the crease in his brow and his stance indicating genuine interest.

"The Terran vegetable you name 'carrot' naturally occurred in several of your continents in a variety of colours. However, the bright orange was seen as the most desirable and so your farmers, over a period of many decades, altered their techniques of planting and cultivation until only the orange colour remained."

"This is why you've never seen a purple carrot, Captain," Sulu added, looking pleased with himself for knowing this. Uhura pressed her palm to her mouth to cover her grin.

Kirk nodded. "And you just sped the process up?"

"Indeed. We bypassed the wasteful stage of natural progression by splicing the required genes and artificially creating seeds. I assume you wish to see the results in the laboratory's greenhouse?"

Again, she didn't wait for an answer before walking down a long corridor to their right. They dutifully followed.

The greenhouse smelt like soil, though it was tangier than the smell of her mother's greenhouse back in Kenya, though its effect on temperature was the same. Uhura didn't think they'd be able to last too long in there – it was already difficult to breathe.

"The intensity of the sunlight is controlled by altering the amount of UV rays that can pass through the glass." They looked up and saw that the panels that made up the structure of the greenhouse were of varying transparency. "It is so we can control the environments for our experiments and improve efficiency."

The effect was a lovely patchwork of varying shades of green.

"Our success has been pleasing. We are able to produce enough food to sustain 74% of our population without the use of replicators."

"In a year? That's impressive."

She did not answer McCoy's compliment. He shifted uncomfortably and looked up at the glass tiles again.

"Have you managed to produce a good variety of specimens? And have there been any cases where the genetic engineering attempts have failed? When walking through city, Uhura and I saw some pink flowers that seemed to be thriving."

"There are a number of flowers which have yet to garner success, and it is the plant with more aesthetic purposes that are proving most difficult. We believe this is due to their more delicate and temperamental structures."

"The conditions have to be right for a flower to bloom," Sulu explained the Chekov, who seemed a bit lost with all this talk about plants and flowers. He was a man of maths and as far as she knew, had grown up in Moscow not a rural area in Russia.

"We have, however had unexpected success with ch'aal." The scientist walked with a brisk pace down one of the aisles and came to a stop in front of a short plant with bright purple spiky leaves. "It was difficult to grow on Vulcan, however it appears to be flourishing here."

The scientist had a pleasant flush to her cheeks and her voice had taken on a warmer, softer quality. She was clearly pleased.

"What's charl?" McCoy frowned and leaned a close as he dared, which was still a good few feet away from the leaves, clearly suspicious.

"Ch'aal." Uhura repeated. "Its leaves are used to make a spicy tea. From what I know it's a delicacy, though I've never tried any."

The Vulcan looked at her in apparent interest. "Your knowledge is commendable, Lieutenant. I must recommend that you try some during your stay here. The taste is exquisite."

Uhura's lip quirked in amusement at both the scientist's compliment and her enthusiastic description of the tea. "I will be sure to, thank you for your recommendation."

"You are welcome." With a nod of her head, she turned back to Sulu. "Do you have enough information or do you require more?"

"I for one would like to see more plants, while I have the chance, though I can't speak for everyone."

Kirk stepped forward, holding an arm out to stop Sulu from saying anything else. "Well I can, and I say that we would appreciate seeing some more examples of your work." The Vulcan stilled in confusion as she viewed Kirk's broad smile. His teeth were showing, something which she probably didn't know how to take.

"Very well, I will show you some of plants you may consider 'exotic'. I believe you will find them of more interest than the common vegetables grown for consumption."

They walked about 50 metres down the same aisle before coming to a stop. "This is a d'mallu." Uhura wrinkled her nose. It was ugly. A rusty shade of brown and dark green vines or roots stemmed from an oily looking bucket shaped stamen. It didn't seem to have a strong odour from where she stood, but she doubted that its scent was especially pleasant.

"I have one of these in my quarters at the Embassy!" Chekov perked up and looked at all of them with wide-eyed enthusiasm. "It is on my window sill."

It took the scientist a moment to respond, no doubt deciphering the unfamiliar accent. "They have become popular house plants due to their omnivorous tendencies."

Chekov was no longer enthusiastic. "Omnivorous?"

"Indeed. Unlike many plants, the d'mallu is capable of movement. These vines," She took a small, narrow metal tube out of her lab coat and extended it. She then proceeded to lift one of the thick brownish-green vines with the end of the utensil from its place resting on the soil. It immediately retailiated, wrapping itself around the tube and dragging it slowly towards its centre.

Kirk stepped back, shocked, and Chekov looked positively horrified.

"… wrap around its prey and bring it to what serves as its mouth."

"The plant has tentacles!" Chekov exclaimed, brows furrowed and mouth open. McCoy cackled, clearly enjoying the poor boy's reaction.

"They are what make it so successful eating the insects and rodents that are present on this planet." The scientist was confused by his reaction, her head was tilted to a greater extent than it had been so far. "It is remarkably well suited to this environment.

Uhura patted Chekov on the shoulder, who looked at her in a plea for help. "Don't worry, I'll ask for it to be taken out of your room before you have to go to bed tonight."

"Thank you, Uhura. I don't think I could sleep knowing that it can eat things alive."

"Do you not have carnivorous plants on Earth, Lieutenant?" Her puzzlement made her eyebrows seem even more angular, which Uhura took to be the equivalent of Spock's raised eyebrow.

"Only a few and they are very rare. The most common is generally known as a Venus Fly Tap, and it is only capable of eating very small insects. The rest grow in the rainforests. Chekov is from Russia, where there are none naturally occurring."

"Fascinating. I was not aware of such biological diversity on such a small planet." The scientists eyes grew distant, which Uhura took to mean that she was thinking. Spock had shown that characteristic before at least.

"I think you would learn much if you were to visit Earth. Our desert plants do not show much diversity, however, so I doubt you would gather much of interest for your work here."

"I will take that into consideration. If you wish to see more plants I will only show you ones that will not cause distress."

Kirk stepped closer to the Vulcan and clapped Chekov on the shoulder. "Lead the way. What he doesn't know won't kill him."

"What an interesting phrase."

"I'm glad you think so. I'm trying not to say so many colloquialisms that you won't understand but it's hard to break habit." He shrugged.

"Explain it to me." The scientist asked and began to walk, Kirk falling into step beside her.

Uhura and Sulu shared an amused glance. Kirk had a knack for charm, and it seemed as though the way to charm a Vulcan was to make them interested. She hurried to catch up, eager to see how he'd answer.

"It's difficult to explain a phrase like that because they are used in place of an actual logical sentence. We understand the meaning because we're used to hearing them in certain situations." He scratched the back of his neck and tipped his chin so he was looking at her face. She was only a few centimetres shorter than he was. "I suppose it's something along the lines of 'you can only be afraid of what you understand.'"

"So it advocates ignorance?"

"Not exactly… Uhura, how would you explain it?"

"You are familiar with the phrase, _'Dakh pthak. Nam-tor ri ret na'fan-kitok fa tu dakh pthak, _are you not?"

"It is one of Surak's teachings. I believe it translates 'Cast out fear. There is no room for anything else until you cast out fear'."

"It does. Here, knowledge is used similarly to the concept of 'fear'."

The scientist stopped walking and appeared deep in thought. "You are referring to a 'metaphor'. We do not have an equivalent in our language. Their existence impedes understanding." After a few seconds, the Vulcan brought her fingertips together in an arch. "You are claiming that the Lieutenant will not be fearful of being hurt by anything in this building simply because he does not believe that anything can do him harm?"

"Yes! Chekov wasn't afraid before seeing the plant was capable of grabbing that bit of metal."

"I believe that I understand the sentiment." The Vulcan seemed pleased with herself as she drew herself impossibly straighter. "Your phrases require lateral thinking which is foreign to me. It was an fascinating insight into the human condition."

"You're welcome?" Kirk wasn't pleased to see Uhura smirking at him, but she didn't even try to hide it this time. It was nice seeing someone else struggle for a change. Lord knows she spent enough time trying to convince Spock of the importance of human forms of communication.

They saw a number of different plants, some she'd come across before in her reading and others she hadn't. It was remarkable how similar some species of plants were to the ones that they had at home, though she and Sulu both were disappointed at how few decorative plants there were.

The scientist seemed to pick up on this, however, in an unexpected understanding of human proclivities. "I believe humans have a fondness for ornamental plant life."

When Sulu nodded in agreement, she led them to an area that had heavier protection from the UV rays. They all seemed grateful – Uhura found herself growing clammy and uncomfortable and for the first time in a year, wishing that she had her old uniform.

"This may be of some interest to you." She pointed at a tiny tree.

"It's like a bonsai tree." Sulu brushed a finger lightly over its trunk.

"It is a _th'laax__. _It is my understanding that Ambassador Sarek and his wife had a great many in their gardens. By your reaction, Lieutenant, I believe that it is a human tendancy to enjoy these small trees."

"It appears so."

She inclined her head. "If it pleases you, I will allow you to take one for your ship."

"It would be my honour to accept," Sulu's eyes flicked to Uhura's, briefly, just enough time to see her nod.

The Vulan selected one not yet in flower and held it out to Sulu, who took is carefully from her, extra cautious to not brush against her fingers. He lowered himself in a bow before examining the tree.

"And it does not need restricting?"

"Negative. It will continue to grow but will reach its natural height in approximately six weeks. At this time, it will bud and leaves will grow. Its cycle is lasts fourteen Terran months."

Sulu couldn't take his eyes off of it and Uhura felt a pang of jealousy. She'd never so much been given a bunch of flowers, let alone an exotic off world plant by a Vulcan woman they'd only just met.

At that thought, she looked at her chronometer. Her stomach lurched.

"Forgive me, but I must take my leave. I have an appointment for tea with an acquaintance and will have to go immediately to avoid being late."

"By all means. I will ensure your colleagues are fed before their escort arrives."

Uhura smiled at the scientist's choice of words. "_Lesek. __Dif-tor heh smusma_." She gave the scientist the appropriate hand gesture.

"_S__ochya eh dif__,"_ she replied.

"I'll see you guys later at dinner," she waved and blew air kisses to them as she walked away, too excited to care about their bemused expressions.

"Enjoy yourself, darlin'," McCoy called after her.

She shot him a grin before stepping back into the decontamination shower. With a sigh of relief, she pulled the cap off of her head and massaged her scalp. It ached something chronic where it had pulled at her roots.

Once she disposed of her body suit and overshoes, she hurried out onto the street, shielding her eyes against the harsh glare of the sun. At least it was cooler out here than in the greenhouse. There was even a slight breeze.

Spock was stood at the bottom of the stairs with his hands folded behind his back, looking up when he noticed the door open.

She skipped down the steps with a broad grin and hopped to a stop a few steps from the bottom, making them the same height.

"Spock, sorry I'm late! Sulu was just given a gift of a _th'laax_ and I lost track of time."

"You are not late, Lieutenant."

Her smile faltered. "Oh. Then I have nothing to worry about." She descended the last few steps with a marked dejectedness compared to the way she'd ran down the others. She'd almost forgotten about his new suppressed conversation. She was pleasantly surprised that he fell in line with her and spoke.

"I assume Lieutenant Sulu was pleased with his acquisition."

Her smile was so wide it tugged at her dry, chapped lips, causing them to split. She didn't care. "He was speechless, but I could tell he was thrilled. He handled it very gracefully. It was an interesting visit, actually. A lot has been done in such a short amount of time. And Kirk even taught the scientist a turn of phrase!"

She looked up at him and his expression was as stoic as ever, but she could tell he was likely overwhelmed by her outburst. Vulcans did not speak in such an emotional way about a range of topics in such a short space of time. He needed time to get used to it.

Determined to not be put out by his lack of reaction, she decided that she'd continue talking. "She said it was an interesting lesson on 'human proclivities', which is a polite way of putting it I thought."

"Indeed."

"She said that the lateral thinking required was a difficulty for her though. Did you have that problem?"

"I still do, though it was intended that I benefit from the human characteristic of 'creativity' so I assume that I may find this aspect easier than others."

She frowned at the word 'intended' but decided it wasn't the time to question it.

They walked the short distance to T'Pan's residence in silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. There was too much to look at to be unnerved by the man beside her.

An elderly Vulcan sat outside a café tipped his crumbs on his empty dish onto the ground and watched as the tiny, scaly, sparrow-like birds she'd seen the day before hopped around his feet.

A pair of young women were playing three dimensional chess under the shade of a veranda umbrella and a number of spectators silently observed.

They struck her as very human activities, and had to chastise herself for thinking that way. Why wouldn't Vulcans take pleasure in similar ways? They didn't devote their lives solely to intellectual advancement – after all, it wasn't logical to deny yourself rest and enjoyment.

She snuck a glance at Spock out of the corner of her eye. If she was to succeed in anything here, it was that she would remind him of that.

Though he might not need it, for he was taking tea with her after all.

"We have arrived." Spock stopped infront of a gap in the wall that ran along the street and waited for her to walk to the dark wooden door.

She knocked and waited as patiently as she could, but couldn't stop one foot from bouncing.

"Uhura, Osu Spock, come in." T'Pan opened the door and her eyes seemed to warm as she greeted them formally. "If you find it agreeable, I wish us to converse in Standard. Due to the reduced hours of formal schooling, I believe that T'Sara will benefit."

"Of course." Uhura stepped inside and nearly groaned with the coolness of the air. "Your home is wonderfully cool, T'Pan. I have spent the morning in the Agricultural facility and the heat was getting to be overwhelming."

"You must find this planet to be especially uncomfortable as you cannot regulate your internal temperature," T'Pan replied, holding her hand out to T'Saria who had joined them in the hall way. "Daughter, Uhura is here, as is Osu Spock." The girl looked up at Spock with wide eyes.

Spock greeted her traditionally and said something so softly Uhura didn't catch the words. T'Saria relaxed instantly and tugged at her mother's sleeve.

"_Mother, can we show Uhura the tea?"_

"In Standard, daughter. You must learn to converse with confidence."

In a quiet voice, she repeated herself and they answered positively, so followed the little girl into the dining area.

Spock stopped T'Pan before entering the room. "Is her demeanour similar with all people, or merely ones she is unfamiliar with?"

Uhura turned in surprise.

"With all."

"Is this a trait shared among those of a similar age?"

T'Pan nodded minutely. "It has occurred mainly with the children that experienced a breaking of a bond with a parent and did not have access to a healer."

"And this distress has manifested as shyness and uncertainty in social interactions?"

"Affirmative. As a rule the effected children are reluctant to form bonds with others and shirk from unnecessary telepathic contact."

Spock didn't reply but Uhura could see concern in his expression.

"Uhura, T'Saria has something she wishes you to see," T'Pan said as she led her guests to the square table in the centre of the room. A pale lavender coloured tea was steeping in a transparent pot in the centre, and four places were set with a tea dish and a small plate. To the side of the tea pot was a larger dish whose contents made Uhura clap her hands together with glee.

"T'Saria, you remembered!" She held out her hand with her fingers outstretched and a smile on her face. The girl pressed the tips of her fingers to hers as they had done the day before, and Uhura shared her feelings about the gesture. _Pleased, grateful, thankful, happy_.

"You are welcome Uhura. I recalled you mentioning you enjoyed it and so I thought it would be pleasant for you to experience it with us here." Her accent was still strong, but Uhura had no problem understanding what she said.

"I don't think I have had any since I made it with you, so it seems fitting to share some with you now." She turned to see Spock watching their exchange with a slightly furrowed brow and his head titled at a more severe angle than she'd seen him display yet.

As they sat, Spock looked at the cake curiously. "Lieutenant, I am unfamiliar with this foodstuff."

"Have you not tried it before? I hope you like it – It's fruit loaf. Its texture is similar to a cake but it's density more like bread. You make it with whatever fruit and nuts and spices you have available, so it's very practical, but my mama always put sunflower seeds in hers. It's cut into slices and spread with cheese, butter or jam."

Spock still seemed confused. Uhura shook her head with mirth. "It's one of those things where you've got to try it to understand it - studying it won't help."

She felt amusement come through her fingertips and T'Pan seemed equally amused at the way she was speaking to him. The Vulcan woman poured tea into their drinking bowls as T'Saria released her fingers and began to slice the loaf into portions of equal thickness. Uhura frowned a little at the loss of contact, and caught Spock looking at her again.

It was like he was studying her.

To deflect her discomfort at his scrutiny, she asked a question. "I was under the impression that you two knew each other – is this not the case?"

"It is not."

"Oh." She thanked T'Saria as took the plate that was offered to her.

"Our families were not previously acquainted, though new acquaintances cannot be made if such invitations are declined," Spock retorted, as one eyebrow twitched. It made her laugh.

She picked up her knife and fork and spread some of the bright yellow jam that was given to her in a small bowl. "This smells delicious, a bit like strawberries, but more exotic?"

"I am unaware of a Terran equivalent to the fruit, but I understand your comparison," T'Pan said as she sliced her portion into small squares.

Uhura had to keep stopping herself from talking with her mouth full and wait inbetween bites to vocalise how nice the combination of the tart jam and the loaf made with unfamiliar fruits and seeds. She told them about her morning, the things she'd learned and the incident with Chekov and the carnivorous plant, as well as her general impressions of New Vulcan from what she had seen so far.

"The atmosphere in the Embassy is so relaxing and warm, just like your home, T'Pan – it's lovely."

T'Pan's head tilted and T'Saria placed her fingers back on hers. _Confusion_.

"The Lieutenant uses the word 'warm' to mean 'welcoming' in this instance. She did not mean to contradict herself regarding her earlier statement regarding the coolness of the air."

_Understanding_.

"I see."

"It was a compliment to how friendly you've been towards me. I'm grateful." Uhura nodded and sipped her tea. It was like chamomile, but the flavour was fuller.

T'Pan started at the word 'friendly' and got that distant look that Uhura knew to mean that she was thinking. She sipped her tea until she was able to speak.

"Nyota, it occurs to me that that during my time of Earth I was not what you would consider 'friendly'. I was extremely rude to you by not enquiring as to your well-being and experience of _Va'Pak_. You expended a lot of time tending to our needs, but we did not tend to yours."

Uhura smiled warmly at T'Pan, who appeared sincere in her regret. "I was not offended, do not worry. At that moment, your need was greater than mine."

T'Saria tugged her sleeve and softly asked, "I desire to hear of your experience, Uhura."

She glanced to Spock who gave no impression of his feelings on the matter.

She sighed and shifted in her seat before speaking. She didn't think she could deny T'Saria anything she wanted, especially when she was sharing her _curiosity_ with her through their fingertips. She was careful to not let any emotions go through the link and so lifted her hand until their skin was barely brushing.

With a steadying breath, she began to speak. "I was placed aboard the _Farragut_. I was training to be a Communications Officer, but declined a position on the bridge because I felt as though I was… emotionally compromised.

"I stayed with my friend, Gaila, and helped in engineering, mainly assisting with preparing the ship as quickly as we could for habitation as we had been given such short warning to get everything ready, when we heard the alarms indicating that the shields had been breached and that we had been critically damaged. Luckily we were close to some escape pods-"

She took a shaky breath. It was the first time she'd actually said it out loud. She had written to her family, not daring to see their reactions to her experience.

"Gaila pushed me into one of the pods and launched it before I had the chance to get into one of the seats and strap myself in. I must have been thrown around a bit because I was knocked unconscious pretty quickly – I don't remember anything about the journey. I woke up in sick bay at the Academy." She shrugged.

"Were your injuries substantial?" T'Pan asked, her tea dish in hand but she was not sipping it.

"Fractured skull, broken ribs… my legs didn't fare too well in the uniform skirt so they are still heavily scarred. Gaila's spine was broken on impact, so I was lucky to have not been in a seat after all. I think I ended up wedged beneath the console, which took most of the impact."

_Sympathy_.

"Thank you for your concern, T'Saria, but I was, and am, fine. No lasting damage. I'm very grateful and lucky." She gave her a smile that felt weak.

Spock set his dish on his saucer with a clank.

"It is distressing to hear of your hardship, though I was aware of your survival, I will take the time now to state that I am satisfied by the outcome."

She blinked. "You knew I was alive? Why didn't you tell me?"

Spock steepled his fingers and looked at her intently, searching for the words. "Initially I had assumed that you had perished for I myself had placed you on the Farragut, though I was satisfied to see your name upon the list of survivors. I had no reason to think that the list was inaccurate and so was sure of your being alive." Seemingly satisfied with his speech, he picked up his dish once more and sipped his tea. Uhura span in her seat to look at him directly.

"But – yes, T'Saria?"

"Uhura, what is that?" The girl sent an emotion back at her.

"That is 'relief'."

"Why are you experiencing relief, Lieutenant?" Spock's brows were clearly furrowed, but she was thinking too hard on how to explain her reactions without worrying about what this slip of emotion meant.

"I thought that you hadn't cared whether I died or not. I assumed that you didn't contact me because you didn't care either way. Now I know that you didn't feel as though you needed to, I am satisfied."

"How so?"

She sighed and rubbed her fingers across her forehead, trying to release the tension she could feel building there. Her heart was racing. This conversation would mean a lot, she knew, and was trying so hard to use the right words. "To you, it made sense. You knew all you had to know. This is difficult to explain.

"For humans, reciprocation of emotions is the basis of a friendship. Kirk, for example, told me how glad he was that me and Gaila had survived, and showed us through giving us a hug and being in our company, and we in turn showed him our acceptance of his reaction by accepting his attention and asking him to tell us about his time on the _Enterprise_. I hope I'm explaining this right…"

T'Pan was watching them with open curiosity. "Fascinating." Uhura felt heat prickle her cheeks. Her voice was unsteady now, but she continued as if she hadn't been interrupted.

"But in this case, you sought the information you needed and were content with the knowledge that I was alive. This was enough for you."

"But not for you."

"Not for a long time, because I considered you a friend, Spock. Though now the human stage of reciprocating emotions is complete, because I accept your reaction by this conversation, and by saying 'thank you, Spock. I am also glad that you survived the Va'Pak." She slumped in her seat in relief. "Though I saw you on the news so didn't have to check the casualty list to know that you were okay."

"Uhura, were you attempting to be humorous with your last statement?" T'Saria's inquisitivity released the tension and she let out a sharp breath in relief.

"Yes I was."

"By using your knowledge of Osu Spock's wellbeing as a parallel to his not knowing and therefore emphasizing his deficiency in that regard?"

Uhura laughed again and sent her a wave of gratitude and reassurance. "On Earth we call it 'teasing'. It is also a sign of friendship."

"Fascinating." The girl gathered their soiled plates and took them into the kitchen as her mother refilled their dishes with the fragrant tea.

It thankfully marked the end of their serious conversation, as the remainder of their meeting was spent discussing things lighter in nature.

Uhura was glad that Vulcan children were allowed to remain at the table with the adults, and when she voiced as much, the reaction was expected.

"It is not logical to shield them from intelligent conversations or the concerns of their family."

She supposed it made sense, given that their familial bonds would let them know if something was wrong anyway. It led the way for a conversation in the differences in child-rearing practices between the two planets.

"Children are… important to us," Spock had said, and the solemnity of T'Pan's agreeing nod made her reluctant to question why this was.

She was sad when Spock said that they had better leave if Uhura was to have enough time to catch up with the rest of the crew's trip to the Manufacturing Quarter and prepare for the evening meal with the Ambassador.

She gave T'Saria her comm number so that she could contact her if she ever wanted to talk or practice her Standard, and felt tears prick her eyes when T'Pan told her that she hoped to see her again.

Spock suggested a hovercar was the most suitable method of returning to the Embassy, and she wordlessly agreed.

The journey was silent, with Spock obviously contemplating what had transpired at the lunch and she found herself doing the same, staring at the passing sandy buildings and busy market as she thought about her admission.

Spock held the door open for her as she stepped out, and she gave him a small smile in thanks. As they started up the path, she broke the silence suddenly.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask – what shall I wear tonight? What would be most suitable?"

He seemed relieved that she was speaking again as his expression seemed to relax further into impassivity. "Anything that you consider to be formal wear will be appropriate. You have handled yourself admirably thus far and so I cannot see that you will make a decision you will regret."

"Ok. The guys are planning on wearing their dress uniform, but I wanted to wear something different – I don't get much of a chance to."

He nodded. "Females always have a wider range of clothing options than males."

"Which is as much of a curse as it is a good thing," she rolled her eyes good naturedly.

"Oh! And before we go in – did you like the fruit loaf?"

His eyes seemed to grow warmer. "Indeed. The taste was pleasing."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll have to make sure you have it again soon." She clasped her hands together happily and smiled as warmly as she could.

They ascended the steps and paused in the foyer as Spock tilted his head. It looked like he was listening to somebody whisper.

"The Captain and the rest of the crew are in the small conference room."

She started to walk down the corridor. When she looked back, he was stood watching her. "Are you coming? I'm sure they'll be glad to see you."

He answered by walking towards her.

Glad might have been the operative word, as they were greeted with the disgruntled face of McCoy.

* * *

Let me know if you found the chapter length too long so I can adjust upcoming chapters.

Reviews are love!

I enjoy finding out what you think about the chapters. I've had some useful questions that have helped me figure a few things out. You're helping me write a better story!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly.

Thank you for your overwhelming support.

And onto another beast of a chapter...

* * *

"From the look on your face, Uhura, I take it you enjoyed your little tea break?" McCoy turned to scowl at Spock. "I assume you did too, not that I can tell."

"Leonard!" Uhura curled her fingers tightly into fists and stepped towards the angry Doctor. Her eyes flicked over to the others – Kirk and Sulu's expressions were stony, but Chekov met her gaze with a sheepish wince.

"Doctor, from your tone and posture I infer that you did not have a pleasant experience in the Manufacturing Quarter."

"I had a rather unpleasant shock in fact." He pointed at Spock, jabbing his finger forcefully before shaking his hand out and turning around. "You knew what our reaction would be and you didn't give us any warning!"

Uhura looked between them warily. "What's going on?"

Kirk's voice was calm and steady as he sat up straight in his chair. "They're using child labour, Uhura."

She winced.

He pushed himself and stood beside McCoy, mirroring his stance by folding his arms. "Spock, you are well aware that you are breaking Federation law."

Spock conceded this point with a tilt of his head. "I am."

McCoy scoffed and threw his arms up in the air. "Well that's just dandy. And here I was, thinking Vulcans were an ethical bunch." He started pacing the room, shaking his head.

"As a rule, we are."

McCoy stopped and stared at him incredulously, eyebrows raised and mouth open, before barking a laugh, short and sharp. "So please, explain to me why I saw children sat in rows behind bloomin' _looms_? Spock, they were welding bits of metal together! That's pretty high up there on the list of unethical treatment of children. I bet they're not even getting paid."

"You are correct – they are not."

Kirk gasped. "Explain. Now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't get a direct line to San Fransisco and tell them exactly what's going on here."

Uhura bit her lip. She was frozen in place, stuck between the Vulcan to her left and her colleagues on her right. She had her thoughts on why the Vulcans might choose to do this, but they didn't make it right. The conversation they'd had earlier – the concern he'd shown for T'Saria, it didn't point to someone who was purposefully unprincipled when it came to children…

Spock took a measured breath before speaking, his once again expressionless eyes flitting between the Captain and the Doctor. "I wish to make it clear that children are… incredibly important to us."

McCoy snorted. "Seems like it."

"Doctor, I assure you this is the case. I need to tell you this so that you can understand our reasoning.

"Children are so important because they are so few. A Vulcan child can only be produced naturally once every seven years. Multiple births do not occur. They are… _cherished_ in our culture for the opportunities they bring to our understanding of emotions and facets of our character as well as our advancement as a species."

Uhura frowned. It helped fill in the gaps from the interactions they'd had earlier. Peeling her eyes from Spock, she saw that Chekov was listening intently – the clarity in his expression similar to the one he got when he was learning information at his station on the Bridge. Sulu, Kirk and McCoy were listening, but she got the impression that they were ready to argue as soon as Spock provided them the opportunity.

"Children are treated differently here than how humans treat their offspring. We aim to treat them as our equals, and so to some extent, we respect their right to self-determination."

"Spock, if you treat your children so much differently to the way humans do, then why are they cooped up in a factory making God knows what?" McCoy's words were hissed through his clenched teeth.

Spock's voice gave away nothing.

"Doctor, the young people that you mentioned were welding parts to help make the machines that will be replacing them."

Silence.

"This is not a desirable condition, nor is it a permanent one. You voiced your thoughts regarding how established the city is compared to your expectations of what was achievable in the time frame – this is one of the reasons to how this progress has possible."

Spock hadn't moved an inch, hands still clasped firmly behind his back.

"Contrary to your assumptions, they are not forced to be there – they choose it. Their education is not impeded. It is logical that their participation in the re-building of their home planet was allowed."

McCoy relaxed his arms and wiped his face with his palm. He looked exhausted. "That still doesn't make this okay."

Spock's answering nod was sharp. "In this instance, I agree with you – it would be preferable for there to be an alternative, but there is not one. New Vulcan is a large planet, and there is only one other city that rivals this in density and diversity. Priority was given to establishing food, water and medical facilities, as well as sanitation and housing. Due to the Science Academy being located off-world, many of these things have been quick to progress, but at the cost of the more basic needs.

"Cloth must be produced in abundance due to the number of every-day pieces that are required, and it is logical that the less-skilled dedicate their time to fulfilling this need, rather than another more-skilled individual.

"It must not be forgotten that we are re-building a civilization from a previously uninhabited planet."

The explanation made sense, even if it didn't completely satisfy.

Chekov cleared his throat. "It must make the young people feel useful. The act of making things is rewarding and therapeutic." He nodded before continuing, pale blue eyes earnest. "In Russia, young people work to help provide for their families and it gives them satisfaction and a feeling that they are worth value because they are not being a burden on their elders. I understood this feeling when I saw the Vulcans in the factory."

Uhura smiled kindly at the young man, whose face was red with his stumbling explanation and personal revelation.

Kirk flopped into the chair beside Sulu and sighed. "Your explanation makes sense, Spock, but you had to have known what our reaction would be seeing them there."

"I understood that there was a chance that the sight of young workers would evoke a negative response."

"But you let us see it anyway." Kirk looked up cautiously, eyes narrowed marginally.

"Indeed. I did not believe it… _ethical_ to prevent your knowledge of the progress of this planet." Uhura could have sworn that Spock's lip quirked a little at the word 'ethical', and she thought Kirk saw it too, judging by the way his expression relaxed and the bemusement she heard in the way he exhaled a quiet laugh.

"You know what will happen if I choose to include this in the report?"

"I do. If I may ask, why did the Vulcan providing you with the tour of the facility not give you this explanation?"

"The only thing he had to say for himself was 'it is logical'." McCoy spat the word as if it were dirty.

"I thought as much. If you have no more questions, I will depart to meditate before we re-convene for the evening meal."

He paused, and when no one spoke, he turned on his heel and left, cloak billowing behind him.

"The man looks like an overgrown bat in that," McCoy rolled his eyes and rotated his shoulders, releasing the stiffness that had formed from the challenging encounter. "Don't look at me like that, Uhura – I know you see it too."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. Shifting her weight onto one foot, she looked at them suspiciously. "Was it really that bad?"

Sulu pushed out his chair soundlessly and got up, stretching his legs as he stood. "It was unexpected more than anything. We'd just come from a warehouse that had machines making and shaping glass for hovercars and personal shuttles, and then we stepped into a room that looked like something out of an Earth history textbook."

"You wouldn't have been happy seeing it, Uhura, not matter how rational he made it sound." Kirk raised an eyebrow in challenge. She sighed as she tightened her ponytail.

"You're probably right. Chekov, your insights were very thoughtful." She flashed him a smile and the flush that hadn't quite left his cheeks returned with a vengeance.

He shrugged. "If I hadn't been good with numbers, I would have ended up like them. We don't like to admit that things like this happen on Earth, but it does."

Uhura nodded in agreement. He was right, after all, but being confronted with it directly forced you to deal with it. "Are you going to include it in the report, Captain?"

"I haven't decided." This earned him a glare from McCoy, but he ignored it, choosing instead to clap his hands together and change the subject.

"So Uhura, how was your lunch?" His voice was falsely bright and so was his smile, but she was glad for a change of subject. It was a difficult moral situation and she didn't feel like it was her place to argue with the Vulcans, especially after seeing how the events of the last year had affected T'Saria. If making cloth and welding made their distress easier to handle, then in the circumstances she could understand.

"Oh it was wonderful! It was so nice to see them again. T'Saria made the fruit loaf from the recipe I'd taught her, and baked it with Vulcan fruits and nuts. I was surprised she'd remembered-"

"Why? Don't they have that crazy perfect memory?"

She scowled at McCoy's outburst but didn't retaliate.

"- because it was such a lovely gesture. I learned a lot too – the children that lost a parental bond are wary of making bonds and forming relationships with others. I don't think this was ever really a problem before."

"It wouldn't have been – Vulcans live obscenely longer than humans do. Statistically speaking, they'd probably be well over a hundred before their parents mortality was ever a real concern. And they're not a race prone to accidental deaths."

It seemed everyone was ignoring McCoy's bad mood, because not even Kirk responded to the sarcasm in his tone.

"For what it's worth, Spock seemed really concerned when T'Pan told him about it."

Chekov's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Why didn't he know about it before, if the little girl was having problems?"

"He didn't know them before – he'd only just met them."

Kirk laughed. "That makes sense."

"What do you mean?"

"His reaction to seeing you and the girl-"

"T'Saria."

"-T'Saria do that telepathic thing with your fingers."

She frowned as her stomach lurched. "What do you mean, 'his reaction'? How did he react?"

"He said 'fascinating' in that way he used to, and I saw his frown for the first time since we got here."

She linked her fingers in front of her, not knowing how to deal with the awkward sensation she felt creep up her spine. "If you had been in my situation at the Academy, I'm sure you would have done the same thing."

Kirk shook his head. "N-n-n-no, I really doubt that I would have. From what I've heard, it isn't the walk in the park like you make out like it is. Having someone else poking around in your brain? No thanks."

The others seemed to agree. McCoy gave his typical snide remark, "One mind's enough in here, thank you very much." And Chekov and Sulu twisted their mouths in distaste.

"A full link was never established, and you do have some control over it…" She was eager to convince them, feeling openly uncomfortable now.

Sulu gave her a sympathetic smile at her weak words. "With a child, you might do, but with an adult or someone that wasn't as in control of their emotions? That just sounds dangerous to me."

"The amount of trust I'd have to have in the other person would be insane." Kirk patted her on her shoulder. "But who am I to judge – it's your mind and emotions to do what you want with. Now, I'm going to go and wash up before dinner. This planet is too darn dusty for my liking."

He strode out of the room as if the lightest conversation in the world had just taken place. She had no idea how he could be so resilient.

Sulu followed and McCoy muttered something about seeing them later before leaving just Chekov and Uhura.

With a sigh, she linked arms with the Russian and leant into his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking down at her from the corner of his eye. She didn't normally lend herself to vulnerability, but she couldn't stop herself from taking comfort from the boy beside her.

"It's difficult, seeing them try to put themselves back together again."

She felt him nod. "It is. But they are hopeful, and that is the main thing, no?"

They were quiet as they walked along the corridor, ignored by the passing Embassy staff.

As they approached her room, she let go of his arm and caught his eye a little shyly. "Can you do me a favour?"

"What is it?"

"Can you wait to walk with me to dinner? I don't want to get there by myself. I'm wearing something other than my dress uniform, so I guess I'm just feeling a bit self-conscious."

"Ah you are lucky! The dress uniform jacket makes my neck feel scratchy."

"But it makes you all look so handsome!" She said teasingly, shoving his shoulder. Hearing him laugh made her heart feel lighter.

"A small price to pay. But yes, I can do that. Shall I meet you out here when it is time to leave?"

"I'd really appreciate it."

He grinned as he ducked his head. "Good. Now I will also be glad to be clean from all of this dust."

"See you later, Chekov."

"Bye, Uhura."

She opened her door and flopped onto her bed. She pressed her eyes so tightly shut that she made them ache, trying to stem the nerves making her stomach flutter.

Not only would this be the first time in months she'd worn something other than her uniform, but she'd also have to face Spock again, which wouldn't have been a problem if Kirk hadn't basically told her that he'd accepted the invitation to tea because he wanted to examine her relationship with T'Saria like one of his science experiments. The thought of him judging her made her heart lurch with worry.

Not only that, but they'd be finally meeting Ambassador Sarek, and who knows whichever other dignitaries would be attending.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, trying to stop the panic from becoming too overwhelming.

At least she knew what she would be wearing.

With a groan, she glanced at the chronometer on the comm unit by her bed. If she started getting ready now, she wouldn't have to rush.

Slowly and with little enthusiasm, she dragged herself into the shower, determined that when she came back out, she would stop feeling sorry for herself and look forward to the evening ahead.

* * *

Her mood was somewhat brighter after she'd slipped on her dress. The last time she'd worn it had been at her mother and father's anniversary dinner, so the fabric held happy memories.

Spinning in front of the mirror in the bathroom and checking herself from all angles, she decided it was the right decision to forego the red dress uniform with the stiff turtleneck and sharply creased trousers and too many layers for a planet as warm as this one.

The sleeves that stopped just above the elbow may be thought by some Vulcans as showing excessive skin, but the collar of the dress cut straight across her neck, barely showing her clavicles, and fell with little flare to a pool at her feet. Something had to give.

Standing on her tiptoes, she kicked out a leg and watched as the navy blue fabric seemed to dance. It shimmered like water when she moved, just as she had been told her at the anniversary dinner, and made her feel regal, like a real woman. Unflappable, untouchable.

Her smile was slight but she saw that it softened her features and made her appear less tired by the weight of the day. That and the light covering of make-up she'd applied, the only difference to her usual regime being the thickness of her eye-liner. This was a dinner party after all.

With a hairgrip, she pulled one side of her hair away from her face and smoothed it over her other shoulder. It was the first time in she'd worn her hair down in almost as long as it had been since she'd worn a dress.

Uneven knocks on her door made her stomach spin with nerves. Biting her lip, she slipped on her low heels and slid the doors open to reveal an uncomfortable looking Chekov staring intently at one of his cuffs.

"The others have just left – the Keptin said they should give you opportunity for a grand entrance-" He fell silent when he looked up. "Uhura, you are- very beautiful?" His pale skin turned cherry red when she laughed at his stammering words.

"Why thank you, but it's a bit insulting how surprised you sound." She linked her arm through his and squeezed good naturedly. "Relax, I'm teasing you. Though it's lovely for you to say so."

Chekov's responding laugh came out a little strangled. "It is good that you asked me to go with you rather than the Keptin."

"Yeah, he would have been unbearable. Though I'm pretty sure he's going to be teasing me for a good while yet."

They were quiet as they walked up the stairs towards the formal dining room. "Thank you again, Chekov. I really am nervous."

"Don't say that. Out of everyone I was counting on you being the calm one," he said squeezing her arm a little.

His flush hadn't completely gone and was still tingeing the bridge of his nose pink, but his eyes showed his state of panic quite clearly.

"It's okay, we'll just pretend. First you straighten your back and square your shoulders, then you look straight ahead and act like you expect everyone to be looking at you."

They did as she said and she found out that Chekov actually slouched quite a bit, because he was a good head taller than she was when he straightened up.

"Ready?"

He nodded and whispered, "This must be how the Keptin feels."

She couldn't control her laughter, made more erratic by her nerves, so it rang clearly through the corridors, not stopped by her pressing her palm against her lips. She flushed as the doors to the dining room slid open and everyone was looking to them with a mixture of expressions.

"Chekov, I had no idea you were so funny," McCoy said as he looked over the two of them lazily. "Uhura, come and stand by me. You could make a Klingon look good if you were on his arm."

She raised an eyebrow and put her free hand on her hip. "Doctor, are you alluding to your appearance or Chekov's when you bring to mind a Klingon"

He grinned. "Chekov is far too fair and graceful." He held a glass out to her, half full of a bubbling liquid the colour of raspberries. "You'll probably like this Vulcan wine. A bit too sweet for my taste, but you know what they say…"

She took the glass with a smirk. "And what's made you so uncharacteristically charming?"

McCoy gave Chekov a glass with something with a slight blue tinge, which the Russian sniffed before taking a tentative sip.

"Don't question it, Uhura, just enjoy the moment while it lasts." Kirk strode over, stopped half a foot away from her and whistled. "If this is what you look like when you get dressed up, I'll have to make sure we throw a few more fancy dinners on the ship." His grin turned serious as he patted her arm. "No really, you look great. That dress fits you like a glove."

"Thank you, Kirk. You're all so handsome in your dress uniforms," she leaned into Chekov's shoulder, "even though I don't envy you for how uncomfortable they are."

"Ah, the price we must pay to be called handsome by pretty girls," Kirk winked. "It's a good job we're at a Vulcan embassy otherwise we'd have to keep an eye out for you, my dear communications officer. Diplomats are known to get a bit handsy."

"Then it's an even better job that I know how to wound a man's ego in 83% of Federation languages."

"83% of Federation languages? What do you do with the remaining seventeen?"

They span round to see a Vulcan approaching them with Spock just behind him. She swallowed audibly at how similar they looked. With a forced smile, she answered as cordially as she could. "I would take full advantage of my legs and proceed to walk away."

The unnamed Vulcan stared at her unblinkingly. Chekov kept his grip firm and Kirk subtly moved closer. From the corner of her eye, she saw Sulu and McCoy watching the interaction intently, their postures no longer relaxed.

Spock stepped forward and said something low in his companion's ear. The Vulcan immediately closed his eyes and shook his head quite openly before opening them again. "Forgive me, my manners are truly appalling. I am Sybok and I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

The others introduced themselves, but Uhura couldn't stop herself from glancing between the two men. Their resemblance was uncanny. Their features were practically identical, though Spock's were soft whilst Sybok's were harsh. Spock's ears were more rounded, his complexion slightly paler and his eyes a warmer brown, but besides that... Even their heights were the same, to her untrained eye. Though if she asked, she was sure Spock would tell her the difference down to the micromilimeter.

Sybok turned his unblinking gaze to hers once again and she forced herself to keep from cowering under his scrutiny. However uncomfortable Spock had made them feel before was insignificant to how she was feeling now.

"And this must make you Lieutenant Uhura."

"It must."

She froze as Sybok's lips twisted into a smile. "I find Human humour fascinating. You are adept at using witticisms."

She couldn't answer. The others had noticed Sybok's strange expression, because their quiet conversations had come to a standstill.

His lips were uneven, one corner higher than the other. What made it so unnerving was that the muscles had moved in isolation. His cheeks and nose did not move, his eyes remained as unemotive as was expected from a Vulcan and their corners did not crease and his eyebrows didn't even twitch.

Spock stepped forward and caught Uhura's eye. He looked almost apologetic, if she was reading the tightness of his lips right. "Sybok, your expressiveness has caught our guests unawares. The effect has been unsettling."

Thankfully, Sybok rearranged his mouth to the straight line it had been before. "Brother, it is impolite to put words into the mouths of others."

Uhura stopped breathing.

"Spock," Kirk said cautiously, careful of the tension rising between the two Vulcans. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"I don't. Sybok is my half-brother. We share a father."

Taking a sip of wine, Uhura tried to keep her face from giving herself away. Sybok confused her. He had referred to an emotional response twice so far in his conversation, had attempted a smile and had complimented her sense of humour. Her stomach was twisting with nerves still, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, that something would go horribly wrong with the Ambassador, she was very self-concious in her dress and even her hands were betraying her, shaking perceptively.

She linked her fingers together around the stem of her glass and caught Spock watching her with his head tilted slightly to the right. She couldn't bring herself to try to reassure him. If he was even wondering if she was alright. She just didn't know anymore.

She took a deep breath.

"Uhura, are you okay?" Sulu had moved to the other side of Chekov and was looking at her with a frown.

Despite his quiet voice, all eyes were on her and it wasn't helping.

"I'm fine, really." She tried to brush them off with a sweep of her hand, but McCoy didn't buy it.

"How much have you eaten today? I saw you only had fruit for breakfast."

She opened her mouth but Spock spoke for her.

"Unless she ate at the Agricultural Facility, all Uhura consumed at lunch was some slices of fruit loaf and jam with tea."

"You had lunch with Lieutenant Uhura?" Sybok looked at Spock, but Spock kept his eyes on McCoy.

"Yes, along with her friends, T'Pan and T'Saria."

"What is 'fruit loaf'?"

Spock exhaled heavily in what could have been a sigh before walking over to the table that was set with drinks. "Sybok you are being rude."

Uhura didn't dare to mention that by turning his back on his half-brother, Spock was also being rude, but when he handed her a glass of water, his lip was raised almost imperceptibly and his eyes were were bright, which made her think he was completely aware of how rude he had been.

McCoy cleared his throat. "Thank you, Spock. I'm going to watch you drink all of that, Uhura. You haven't eaten enough and you know it. Luckily we're in the right place to remedy that, but I want you to sit down."

"My father will be here shortly, and so it will not be long before the first course is served."

Uhura rolled her eyes, which made Kirk, who was standing across from her and Chekov, raise his eyebrows. She managed to keep from poking her tongue out at him. This was not how she wanted to start the evening.

Nonetheless, she obediently made her way to the table and sat in the seat that Spock was holding out for her. She thanked him, a little surprised at his gesture, which grew even more when he sat in the seat to her left. Chekov settled in to her right and McCoy was opposite. Kirk bravely sat the other side of Spock at the end, which presumably meant that he would be next to Ambassador Sarek.

Sulu smiled suggestively from opposite Chekov when Sybok slipped next to McCoy. The Doctor's obvious unhappiness at the arrangement made Chekov nearly choke on his drink.

Uhura wished she hadn't put her two glasses on the table, because there was now nothing to occupy her hands. So she picked up her wineglass and took a sip.

"I like this." She winced. Thankfully, everyone, or the humans at least, were glad that someone had broken the silence.

Sulu picked up his glass and inspected it. "I do too. It looks like it should taste fruity but it's more herby? I don't know how to describe it."

Spock answered in his usual measured tone. "The wine is made from a berry more robust than the Terran grape, so many herbs and spices are added in the fermentation process."

"I see. Is it strong?"

"It is not as strong as a typical Terran wine."

McCoy swirled his amber liquid around in his tumbler, looking skeptically at Spock. "I didn't think Vulcans were affected by alcohol."

Spock's head tilted. "Indeed we are not. But humans often drink wine for reasons other than inebriation, is it so inconceivable that Vulcans do the same?"

Uhura giggled, and rather than look annoyed, McCoy seemed somehow satisfied with Spock's reply.

"That'll teach you, Bones." Kirk called as he lifted his glass to his friend, who glared at him in response. It only made him laugh heartily.

It seemed that Spock's teasing had cheered everyone up, because the atmosphere was a lot more pleasant. Though she couldn't fully relax because it seemed as if every time she looked up, she caught Sybok watching her. It was a relief to find him studying Kirk in the same way after Kirk had started complaining about McCoy's insistence at putting UV block on him.

"Bones, I don't care how necessary it is – it's humiliating when you rub UV block on my face like a child."

"Maybe if you didn't act like a child I wouldn't have to do it."

"I've already told you that I wanted to get a tan!"

"Yeah, well I think we've all seen how great an idea that was on the first day. Your ears were so red you could have been mistaken for a –" He stopped himself before he probably said something rude and flung his arms out instead. "Even Chekov had enough sense about him to bring a hat!"

"It's okay to admit that you're jealous of my bronze skin…" Kirk was grinning openly now, not even trying to pretend he wasn't enjoying himself. It made McCoy even more irate.

"What exactly do I have to be jealous of? Because from where I'm sitting, that 'bronze skin' looks two shades away from being painful."

"_Spock, I do not understand. Why are they insulting each other – I thought they were friends. And why is the Captain allowing this Doctor to be so disrespectful?" _Sybok asked.

"_The Doctor is not being disrespectful. They are friends and insulting one another appears to be an aspect of a Terran friendship."_ Spock looked to her. "_Lieutenant, is this observation correct_?"

Uhura nodded and shot him a brief smile. "_It is. The friendship has to be established for this 'banter' to not cause actual insult. The Captain and the Doctor have known each other for many years and so know each other extremely well. _

"_We are in a social setting, and so rank does not have as much power as it would have on Ship, though if a situation arose that required it, the Doctor would defer to the Captain, or the Captain to the Doctor if need be. We are reasonably good at differentiating between professional and private relationships_."

She cast a quick glance at Spock, who outwardly appeared to show no interest in what she was saying.

"_I understand better now. Your explanation was very good and your Vulcan is impeccable._"

"_The Lieutenant would not have been appointed to the Enterprise, nor to this mission, had her Vulcan been substandard. You speak as though her proficiency comes as a surprise to you_."

Uhura blinked, she didn't know what to say. Though she was sure that Sybok had meant his statement as a compliment, Spock was defending her which made her heart skip a little with joy.

Thankfully, Kirk interrupted, unaware of the tension. "Uhura, I daresay you can make any language sound pretty."

"Stop with the charm, Kirk, I know your game. And I happen to think that Vulcan is a beautiful language."

Both Spock and Sybok turned to her when she spoke. Thankfully Spock looked away quickly, turning his attention to the door. Sybok, however, was not as tactful and kept his gaze firmly on her, head tilted a little and his lips placed in an unnerving manner.

The Captain went to speak, but was cut off when the door slid open and two Vulcans in formal robes entered.

"There is no need to rise," the tall male said, who Uhura took to be the Ambassador – it was clear that he was Spock's father. The woman with grey hair that matched her robes strode in behind him but said nothing. "My apologies for our delay – it proved impossible to persuade any of the elders, aside from T'Lang, to join us for our dinner."

Sarek swiftly moved to sit at the head of the table, and the still silent woman took her place to his side, opposite Kirk.

"I suppose they thought it an illogical use of their time," Spock said.

"Indeed," Sarek's left eyebrow rose in a manner similar to Spock's, so it was clear where he inherited that trait. "Though with the events of this afternoon, their decision cannot be condemned." He cast his gaze around the table, making eye-contact with all of his guests. "I expect that between us we shall be able to provide adequate information on our affairs without their absence being noticeable. I shall inquire as to how you are enjoying your stay thus far?" He turned to the Captain and waited patiently for a reply.

Uhura was struck at how warm he was and how regal he was, like a King holding court. She noticed a symbol that was stitched onto the breast of his black robe that she found vaguely familiar.

"We've been very comfortable here at the Embassy and so far what we've seen has been very… insightful." Kirk glanced to McCoy, but the Doctor was sipping his drink with an impressive amount of attention put onto the action.

"And you find these 'insights' agreeable?" Kirk was being tested, they all knew it.

The Captain cleared his throat and grabbed his glass but didn't raise it to his lips. "Once things had been explained, we understood the situation better."

As Sarek relaxed in his chair, a number of staff came in, each carrying a covered dish which was placed on the table. Uhura sat up, eager to see what smelt so good.

The lids were removed to reveal soups of all colours and consistencies she could imagine, and large baskets of dried vegetables, seeds and cubes of different breads were set alongside them.

"I've never seen soup served quite like this before," McCoy said, looking a little intimidated by the choice. There were at least nine different choices.

Uhura waited until Sarek had filled his bowl with a green broth and added a spoonful of seeds and vegetables before she happily ladled the familiar purple plomeek that she'd had the night before into her own bowl and dropped a few vegetables and cubes of herby bread into it. "It all smells delicious."

The rest of the crew followed her lead and tiny pockets of conversation begun. She remained silent, as did Spock. She assumed he was listening, but she was too focused on eating to contribute anything worthwhile.

Once she had emptied her bowl, a fresh one appeared. She looked up and found that Kirk and Sulu were already filling a second bowl full to the brim.

"Spock," she said, keeping her voice low. "How many courses are there going to be?"

"I believe that four have been arranged."

"Okay. I won't fill up too much on the soup then." She only half filled her bowl this time and didn't add any bread. The orange soup was thinner than the plomeek, but it was just as tasty.

She thanked the Vulcan that took her bowl away, and did her best to ignore the way his posture grew rigid when she asked that he didn't replace her bowl. She didn't know how he could be offended by that so decided not to linger on it, instead setting herself to reintegrate with the conversation.

Chekov and Sulu were animatedly discussing improvements that could be made to the warp core on the ship, something that she had no interest in, but she was surprised to see McCoy speaking to Sybok.

Sipping her wine, she tried to be subtle about her eavesdropping.

"… well from what I've seen, a lot of you aren't coping very well with your loss." McCoy had set his spoon down and was gripping the edge of the table with his right hand. His knuckles were white with the force of his grip.

"It is true that we do not have enough healers." Sybok was engaging him, though not openly. His eyes flicked to Spock, who had also decided that their conversation was worth listening to.

McCoy shrugged. "You're a logical people, find a way around it."

Spock answered in his calm and measured manner. "Doctor, I appreciate your qualifications in psychology and therapy, but you are forgetting that Vulcans are not human-"

"As if I could forget."

Uhura gasped. How could he be so rude?

"- and so human methods will not have the same levels of success."

Everybody was listening now and Sarek was surveying the situation in the centre of the table with interest. She hoped that he wasn't offended by McCoy.

Wiping his hand over his face, McCoy slumped in his chair a little. "I understand Vulcans better than you think, Spock. I am a rather proficient xeno-biologist after all, and all I've seen so far is an entire group of people hell-bent on suppressing their grief through work. And let me tell you, work distracts you for a little while, but the underlying problems are still there."

Silence.

The servers began removing the dishes of soup and replaced them with trays of vegetables and what looked like rice and cous cous, with sauces and dips to go with it. It wasn't a successful distraction.

"If you are as proficient as you say, Doctor, you will be familiar with the practice of _Kolinahr_?" Sarek pointed his fingers in an arch beneath his chin.

"I am, though it appears as if it has been applied with mixed outcomes." McCoy glanced at Spock pointedly. Spock blinked slowly and began to fill his plate.

"You are astute in your observation." Sarek nodded. "We are also unfortunate to have lack of elders competent enough to supervise the attempt. Priority was given to elders that were required to oversee the re-building and those that suffered the severance of all of their bonds. As such, intense meditation has been employed with more frequency."

"What's _Kolinahr_?" Kirk asked, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"It's the practice of purging oneself of all emotion and become entirely devoted to pure logic." Uhura's stare was blank and her voice flat and toneless.

She couldn't bring herself to look at Spock. It explained everything.

Picking up on her distress, Chekov pointed at a bowl near his elbow. "You will enjoy this, Uhura. It is good with this sauce – like mushrooms."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before putting some on her plate. Chekov patted her arm in understanding and she'd never been more grateful for the kind, young Russian.

Now was not the place to let her emotions get the better of her. The irony was not lost.

"It is not an easy pursuit. And meditation takes time. Doctor, human consolidation of grief is not instantaneous, nor is ours. Your concern stems from a desire to help, as does your apparent frustration that you cannot. I thank you for your concern." Sarek ended the discussion diplomatically as he was given a clean plate.

It was astonishing that Uhura didn't seem to see any of the Vulcans eat, but they obviously were getting through a considerable amount. Even T'Lang, who was silent as ever seemed to remain unmoving.

"Meditation alone can only achieve so much," Sybok said, his voice almost contemplative.

"Sybok, I believe the conversation has ended." The hostility that Spock felt for his half-brother was becoming increasingly obvious to those around him. Even the typical Vulcan abruptness couldn't explain away the speed of Spock's retorts.

"No, I believe your opinions on the subject have been voiced and you are unwilling to hear any other points of view." Sybok's smile made T'Lang visibly recoil and shift away from him.

Her voice was deep and scratchy, betraying her age. She did not look at him. "And your solution would be to relinquish our control over emotion? You forget yourself. We are attempting to re-establish our race not destroy it."

The tension was thick and close. Uhura swallowed her mouthful of food and didn't know where to look.

"T'Lang, I respect your opinion, but after a life time of suppression you cannot imagine the freedom of letting yourself _feel._" His voice was low and smooth, his lips still twisted and eyes unblinking. A snake.

Uhura repressed a shudder. Her voice, however, was not as easy to control as her body. "You are a _V'tosh ka'tur__."_

Sybok turned to her in one quick, smooth movement, his smile widening , exposing his teeth. It was almost predatory. "Lieutenant, I am pleased that you noticed."

She put down her cutlery with a clink that seemed incredibly loud in the silent room. She had to be careful in how she treated this.

"I had assumed that your declarations of feeling earlier was an attempt at mimicking human speech patterns."

"My responses were genuine expressions. I am impressed at your courage. To accuse a Vulcan of being _V'tosh ka'tur_ is generally considered a most terrible insult."

"Uhura insulted you? And may I gently remind you that we don't understand Vulcan," McCoy winked at Uhura, clearly pleased that there had been the potential to insult Sybok. There was never going to be a friendship there.

"The translation is 'Vulcan without logic' but it is not strictly accurate."

Kirk spluttered, nearly choking on his drink. "Without logic? Is that even possible?" His eyebrows were higher on his forehead than Uhura had ever seen them. It would have been comical had the situation not been so delicate.

"Myself and the _Vahklas_ fully adhere to logic, we just do not agree with the way that the elders believe we must adhere to the teachings of Surak. We embrace the impulses of emotion."

T'Lang muttered rapidly under her breath, which served to cause Sybok a great deal of amusement. "As you can see, our beliefs tend to not be well received."

"For good reason. Having you here is a danger to us all." T'Lang spat with more venom than Uhura thought the older woman capable of. It prompted a strange choking sound that emanated from Sybok's throat. It was an attempt at laughter.

Chekov inhaled sharply and grabbed Uhura's wrist under the table.

It was one of the most disturbing things she'd ever heard.

"T'Lang is prone to dramatics. I'm no more a danger to them as they are to themselves." Sybok leant out of the way of the servants that were clearing the table. The dishes were replaced with foods that smelt and looked richer.

Kirk looked at Sybok directly in the eyes as if to prove that he wasn't affected by the revelations. "You didn't live on Vulcan, did you? Why did you come here if you were unwelcome beforehand?"

"No we settled on a colony, and contrary to popular belief we lived there with much success, despite our _dangerous_ emotions." He looked to his father, saw that he had filled his plate, and proceeded to do the same. "Vulcans seem to have been driven in two – those that reject emotion, and those that welcome it. We've had increased interest recently, and I am glad. It is the first time that I have felt remotely accepted by my people."

"You speak as if you are glad of the _Va'Pak_." Spock's posture was rigid and Uhura could feel the tension rolling off of him. His jaw was clenched.

"Brother-"

"Half-brother."

Sybok twisted his lips into his smile. "Half-brother, you know that there is a difference between being glad of events of the past and being hopeful for the future. The two are not mutually exclusive."

Spock's glare was frightening.

Uhura cleared her throat as she began to eat, which snapped him out of his anger.

The scraping of plates as they ate was the only thing to break the silence until the door slid open and a Vulcan with dark blue robes entered.

"My apologies for disturbing you, but there has been an incident." The Vulcan glanced at the crew sat at the table and was obviously reluctant to say anymore in front of them.

Sarek stood instantly, as did Spock and T'Lang. Sarek just eyed the man with marked interest.

"I apologise for our departure. Please, continue to enjoy the food. I'm sure that Sybok will prove an adept host."

He left, as did T'Lang. Spock seemed reluctant to leave, his eyes lingering on Sybok a little too long before he abruptly turned and swept out of the room.

"What's the emergency?" Kirk said, perturbed by the turn of events.

"For all three to feel the need to leave, I assume it has something to do with the Defence Institute."

"Defence? I thought Spock specialised in science."

Sybok's nod was sharp. "It is. Though the Elders thought it necessary to place him with the Defence Institute. Do not ask me why because I do not know. As far as I am aware, he is involved with the design and rebuilding of our Starships."

"And what are you involved with?" Uhura asked, genuinely curious. If he had been essentially banished to a colony, what would the elders trust him with?

"I work with the _Shi'Oren t'Ek'lyula-Visak'a T'Khasi_ – the Academy of Heritage. I am well versed in the history of our people and it is a logical place to put a person with my _inclinations_. I would be happy to give you a tour, I you so wish."

Uhura bit her lip and looked desperately at her crew mates. On the one hand she wanted to go, but on the other, she didn't want to be left alone with Sybok. As interesting as he was- and his use of language was fascinating, she didn't want to be left alone with him.

"I'll gladly take you up on that offer," McCoy said, to her surprise. He shrugged. "I like expanding my horizons." She mouthed her thanks and he rolled his eyes, though she noted it was in good-humour.

"Then it is settled. I shall arrange it."

The remaining plates were cleared and tea was set in the centre of the table. The long table at the end of the room that had held the drinks when they had entered was now full of fruit and what looked to be desserts of some sort.

Chekov wrinkled his nose at the tea that Uhura poured for him before she filled her own cup. He took a sip and immediately set it back down. "I don't think that I will ever get a taste for tea," he said as he looked longingly at the table. "Would it be rude if I went over there?"

"I won't judge you."

Sulu went with him and their heads bowed as they spoke in low voices, no doubt discussing the unexpected nature of their dinner conversation.

"Forgive my Brother for his short temper," Sybok was saying the captain as he held his tea bowl comfortably in one hand. "He finds he is a man entirely defined by halves and he is not coping well."

Uhura was shocked at his cheek. She opened her mouth to speak, but Kirk got there first.

"You have nothing to apologise for, and I've never put much stock in those that claim to speak for other people."

"Very well." If Sybok was offended by Kirk, he gave no indication. In fact, he gave no indication of even hearing what had been said. "My father is uncomfortable with humans still – his grief at losing his bond-mate has not yet dulled with the passage of time."

Uhura set her dish down noisily. No one paid her any attention, though there was a certain tension in Kirk's tone. "I'm not surprised in the slightest. Is your bond-mate still living, Sybok? Because I don't think you can understand that kind of grief until you experience it yourself."

"I was, and still am, unbonded." He looked at each of them in turn as if trying to figure something out. "Did any of you suffer a similar loss?"

For all his claims of emotional freedom, Sybok had absolutely no tact or consideration for the feelings of others.

Uhura pushed out her chair and began to walk to the dessert table. She heard McCoy and Kirk answer that they had not as she cut a slice of what looked like a custard tart and slid it onto a plate.

"And what of the female?"

She froze.

"Uhura?" She heard Kirk's reluctance to answer. "We don't know. She's never said anything, but I think she was seeing someone before… she seemed a lot happier back then…" He trailed off but there was a wistful quality to his voice.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep herself calm as she turned and headed back to the table.

"In your culture, it is the females that grieve the longest?" Sybok was watching her approach and she clenched her teeth in irritation at his arrogance and presumption that he had the right to know these things about her.

She sat back down, though she spoke slowly, almost dangerously. "I am not aware of gender having any impact on the duration of the sensation of loss."

She didn't speak for the remainder of the meal.

Once she had finished her tea, she stood and excused herself. Chekov asked quietly if she wanted anyone to walk her to her room, and she accepted.

She linked her arm through Chekov's, and just as they reached the door, she heard Sybok say,

"Are she and the Navigator bonded?"

Unable to keep her temper, she spun around, hair flicking from the force of the movement.

"No, I am not bonded to Chekov but I fail to see how it is any of your business. He is being a good friend by making sure that I'm okay. Some people consider asking personal questions about others to be rude."

She practically dragged Chekov out of the room.

When they reached half way down the corridor, Chekov pulled her to a stop.

"Uhura, what is wrong?"

She tried to slow her heavy breathing, but couldn't. She brought her palm to her forehead and closed her eyes. "It's – it's just a lot to handle."

He rubbed the top of her arm. "I know. But you will feel better when you have gone to sleep."

They walked the rest of the way in silence and said goodnight as they came to her door.

She couldn't bring herself to look at the worry on his face so she kept her eyes on the floor.

Taking out her earrings, she never felt more thankful for Chekov and his warm and friendly nature.

She stilled as she remembered that she had promised to have the d'mallu removed from his windowsill.

To her irritation, she couldn't get into the room herself, so left in search of one of the Embassy staff.

She walked the entire ground floor without finding anyone, and was climbing the stairs to try the next floor, when she saw Spock coming towards her.

"Spock!"

His eyebrows twitched in a frown. "Uhura, are you well?"

She laughed, the sound sad and tired. "Not really, but I can't find anyone to help me. I promised Chekov I'd get someone to take the d'mallu out of his room, but-"

"His quarters are on the ground floor?"

"Yeah."

Spock strode past her and she followed.

He typed something onto the console on the wall beside Chekov's door and the door slid open instantly. A few seconds later he emerged carrying the plant, whose tentacles were slowly waving. He placed it on a low cabinet that was pressed up against the wall further down the corridor.

"Thank you," she said, her voice softened by exhaustion.

"What is wrong?" He asked gently, taking a small step towards her. She shook her head as she spoke.

"It's just been a long, emotionally exhausting day, that's all. Sybok was… unexpected and for all his claims at 'embracing' feelings, he's not too aware of them in other people."

Spock paused before replying. "I see. Are the others still at dinner?"

"Yeah."

She opened her door and paused in the entrance. "Spock, just answer me one thing." She turned and met his eyes. She took a deep breath. "Are you glad that the Kolinahr failed?"

He blinked and held his eyes shut. When he opened them, his gaze was piercing.

"Yes."

She nodded, emotionally drained. "Goodnight, Spock."

"Goodnight."

She watched him walk away, his robes flowing gracefully behind him.

With the door closed and the temperature of the room set to cool, she undressed and ran her hands over her scarred legs. She felt the slight pits and ridges in a way she hadn't before, always choosing to ignore them than acknowledge them.

She curled up under her covers with only a fleeting thought to the next day, and promptly fell into an exhausted.

* * *

And the next day will bring a visit to the Science Institute's planet side facility...

As always, reviews are love! And I do love to hear from you.

Also, I need your help! I need new fics to read but don't know which ones are good or not... I'm cool with any length and pairing, but don't like Spock with anyone but Uhura. It's just wrong in my mind!Tell me your favourites!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately.

Thank you for your support and kind words. It helps keep me going!

I am in no way a scientist, so I apologise if some of this doesn't make as much sense as I'd hope. I did try though- all information was researched on the StarTrek 'Memory Alpha'.

Enjoy!

* * *

They were in a smaller, less formal, though no less grand, dining hall waiting for their escort to take them to the Science Academy's on-planet facility.

As she took a sip of fruit juice, Uhura wondered just how many 'Facilities' and 'Academies' and 'Institutes' the Vulcans could have. They were seemingly endless.

Kirk waved his fork at her to get her attention. "Uhura, everything alright last night?"

She blinked at him in surprise, before shifting until she was looking at him from the corner of her eye. "Why do you ask?"

He speared protein cube and dipped it in a red sauce. "Though it may have slipped your mind, what with us being planet-side and all, but I'm still your Captain, and as your Captain I have to be sure of the well-being of my crew."

"Then what's McCoy for?" She arched an eyebrow and took another sip. The juice was scentless but was pleasantly tangy.

Kirk set his fork down with a delicacy that surprised her. Leaning forwards so the others wouldn't hear, he spoke quietly but firmly. "Drop the act. Spock came back into the dining room last night after you'd left and started speaking in Vulcan to that crazy Sybok. I may not understand it but I recognised your name clear as day. What happened?"

"Spock confronted Sybok?"

His confusion at her reaction obvious, Kirk straightened in his seat. "You didn't ask him to?"

"No. I promised Chekov I'd get someone to take the plant from his room –"

"So that's why it was on the table outside my door."

"Yes. I couldn't find any of the staff on the ground floor, so when I went upstairs, I bumped into Spock."

"Did you ask him about why he had to leave?"

She frowned. "No I didn't." Now she thought about it, why hadn't she? Deciding not to think about it now, she resumed her story. "He asked me if I was alright and I said that the whole evening was a lot to handle." She lifted and dropped a shoulder in a tired shrug. It wasn't right to be so tired when she'd only just got up.

She took another sip of juice.

"So Spock took it on himself to talk to Sybok." He seemed to be talking to himself as much as to her.

"Believe it or not, Spock is a free-agent. Besides, I don't think there's much love there."

"That's plain to see. The situation is just so strange… there's definitely a story there." Kirk picked up his fork and continued to eat. "I wish I knew what they had talked about. Sybok was doing that creepy smile and Spock looked almost annoyed with him. I wish you were there to translate it, but if you were it probably wouldn't have happened."

He swallowed and narrowed his eyes into bright blue slits. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that Sybok has taken an interest in you and Spock was warning him off."

She snorted and crossed her legs. Back in trousers she felt too warm to be comfortable and the planet was nowhere near at its hottest yet. "Then it's a good job you do know better."

"Maybe. But you didn't see the way that crazy Vulcan was staring at you. Made me pretty uncomfortable seeing that out of the corner of my eye."

"Stop calling him that," she snapped whilst rolling her eyes. "I did see it, and I caught him keeping his eyes on you a little too long as well. You forget yourself, Captain." She straightened her back and faced him head on. "We're as foreign to him as he is to us. He's a Vulcan. They seek to understand things. He was trying to understand us. That's all."

Kirk shifted uncomfortably, the way his lips were pressed together showing how unhappy he was to be told he was the object of such close scrutiny.

She tried to alleviate the tension. "That is of course unless you want me to tell you of his apparent interest in you?"

His responding smile was withering but it did the job. She pushed out her chair and went to see McCoy, who was inspecting a golden liquid in a tall narrow pouring jug at the table laden with food.

She laughed as he sniffed it.

"I can't tell if it's a drink or a sauce." He scowled and put the glass down without ceremony. "Happier this mornin'?"

Dipping her head in reply, she moved beside him. "I came to tell you that I've eaten something similar to porridge and had two bowls of fruit this morning so you don't need to worry." She pointed to the jug he'd discarded. "And that's honey."

He did a double take and laughed. "Put something in a fancy pot on a different planet and you'll believe anything isn't what it is." He set his plate down and began to eat a Vulcan dish that was similar to strawberry toast. "I don't know how they do it." McCoy shook his head and jabbed his fork into the piece of pastry and took a bite out of it as if it were a corn on the cob.

Uhura wrinkled her nose. "Do what? And don't you want to sit down?"

"Nah. I read somewhere that eating standing up is good for digestion." He waved the food close to her face and she stumbled back with a laugh. "Eating without their fingers. Some food just wasn't made for cutlery."

She shrugged. "If you had psi points in your fingertips I doubt you'd find finger food especially alluring."

"I guess not." He looked at her contemplatively as he chewed. "It's good to see you back to your sharp old self."

She started to speak but he cut her off.

"My dear, these last few months you've been as condescending as a kitten." He paused as if waiting for a retort. When he didn't get one, he continued. "I was glad to see you standing up for yourself last night. You've never been a meek woman." He clapped her on the shoulder and gave her a rare grin.

Uhura hid how disquieting she found his last statement by forcing herself to smile. Is that really how the crew saw her? As meek and placid?

His smile stayed in his eyes as he spoke again. "But really, it's good to see you getting back to normal. We're all grateful for it. Now where's that guide? I'm beginning to think this Vulcan punctuality is a myth."

So they had been speaking about her. She didn't know how she felt about that. On one hand it was nice to know that they cared, but on the other, she hadn't realised that she'd changed that much at all. The last year had been trying for everyone, and it wasn't as if they'd been unaffected…

The door slid open and a young Vulcan male entered, putting an end to her contemplation.

"I have come to escort you to the Science Academy. Please follow me."

And they did, but not before she heard McCoy's low grumblings, "We always seem to be following someone…"

Apparently they only had to go a short distance because they continued walking when they'd left the Embassy.

Chekov took his hat from his pocket once more to shield his fair skin from the beating sun, and she was relieved she'd thought to put on UV block. She had a higher tolerance for the sun due to her African roots than Kirk or Chekov, but she was just as prone to burning when the heat was this direct.

She kept to herself, giving Sulu a weak smile when he looked around to see where she was.

There was rustling all around them as the branches of the trees swayed and the hedgerows rustled in the strong breeze. To her dismay, the wind only brought more heat and grit. She had to squint to stop it from flying into her eyes.

Thankfully, the large domed building came into view and they all stretched with pleasure as the cool air conditioning soothed their skin.

"Ambassador Sarek wishes to give his apologies. He intended to show you what the VSA is currently working on but due to unforeseen circumstances is unavailable."

They turned to see a Vulcan in black robes was stood watching them with a mixture of curiosity and perhaps apprehensiveness.

"As the head of this research, it was logical that I take his place."

"You!" She was surprised that Kirk has spoken and was pointing at the man who had just spoken. She frowned. How did Kirk know him?

The Vulcan tipped his head in a movement that was both familiar and unfamiliar and stepped towards the Captain. "Here I go by Salek."

She wasn't the only one confused by the exchange. Chekov and Sulu shot each other questioning glances and McCoy moved beside Kirk and folded his arms.

"Jim, I didn't know you knew any Vulcans."

Salek clearly understood the message in McCoy's words.

"We met not too long ago." The Vulcan lifted his gaze and settled it on each of them as if he was seeing long lost friends. "It is good to see him again, as it is all of you."

Even more confused, Uhura tried her best to not let the emotion cloud her voice. "I'm sorry but I don't think we've met before."

Salek's features gained a warm quality as he looked at her – a feature she'd come to associate with Spock and more recently his father. She chose to see it as an equivalent to a smile. "Not quite."

She didn't know what to make of that either. Vulcans couldn't lie but were adept at hiding the truth. This she knew. What she didn't know was how to interpret this obviously considered wording.

The familiarity she felt when she looked at him made her think that she _had_ seen him before – maybe on a holovid? Vulcans had been given a lot of airtime since the event, so it wasn't implausible…

Looking over at Kirk, she recognised the look on his face to be similar to the one he got when he understood something. His brow unfurrowed, his eyes brightened and the muscles around his mouth relaxed.

He shared a look with the Vulcan and she noticed a certain resolve in the set of his shoulders.

"Right crew, shall we get this tour started? I doubt I'll understand much of what's being said so I'll need you lot to pay attention."

Salek's brown eyes gleamed with amusement. "Jim, I believe you are competent enough to have no difficulty in comprehending what I have to say without difficulty."

McCoy's own eyes were wide as he mouthed "Jim?" to her with obvious disbelief.

She shrugged and rubbed her ear, indicating that they couldn't talk without being overheard. The last thing she wanted to do was insult either Kirk or Salek, but the last thing she expected was a level of familiarity between the two of them that the Vulcan was willing to address him by his first name only.

Spock had never called any of his colleagues by their first names, despite their frequent asking him to, and he'd certainly never called her 'Nyota'.

It was strange, but the strain on Kirk's face and the stiffness in his stride made his earlier apprehension of coming to New Vulcan more apparent.

Something had happened and it involved him and this Salek.

The building had no windows and so the corridors were lit by a dim blue light. She could still see, but was unnerved by the dark shadows and echoes that bounced through the tiled halls.

She hurried a little to fall in with Sulu and Chekov. Their excitement was palpable. No human had ever attended the VSA and so no human had stepped foot into the Academy. This on-planet facility was the closest they were going to get, and the more she considered it, the stronger the excitement in the pit of her stomach grew.

Maybe enthusiasm for science was catching. More likely it was just the thrill of having the privilege of being here.

"What are you going to be showing us then, Salek?" Kirk asked. Though his words were confident and light, his wavering voice betrayed his personal distress.

"I will allow you to witness a number of on-going projects, though discussion will be limited, before concluding with a tour of my laboratory where we are conducting a series of experiments regarding the properties of trilithium and increasing the margin of error in the transportation of biological objects." Salek looked to Chekov with a twitch of his lip. "I appear I have the interest of your Navigator."

Chekov nodded excitedly, his body nigh on vibrating. "Yes, it is a very interesting subject. We – me and Scotty, have spent many hours discussing it." His pale eyes were bright and wide, the shade almost translucent in the blue lights.

Kirk slapped his palm to his forehead. "Scotty! He should be here. No offence, but Sulu and Chekov are probably the only ones that will get much out of this expedition."

"I have attempted to select aspects of research that are pertinent to your varying areas of expertise. I did not wish you to suffer through subjects beyond your understanding."

Uhura smiled gratefully at the Vulcan who blinked at her in acknowledgement. It was an art form, really, how they managed to communicate so much with so little movement. No wonder they found human displays to be occasionally distasteful and often confusing.

"That's very kind of you, but despite your protests, most subjects are beyond my understanding." Kirk drew himself to his full height and turned to face Salek straight on. "Do you have a transporter room nearby?"

"Yes."

"Would it be acceptable for Scotty to beam down and take part in this tour? If this young Russian is excited about what you said, he'd kill me if he missed it."

Salek's gaze grew distant for a moment before he answered. "I can think of no acceptable reason to decline."

Something in his hesitation and phrasing made Uhura frown.

"Excellent." Kirk pulled out his comm and ratted off the invitation. Snapping it shut, his grin was wide. "He said he'd be here in a jiffy."

If Salek was confused by the idiom he hid it well. His face was lined, more lined even than the elderly female that had joined them for dinner the night before, but she found that she couldn't determine his age. There was a regal quality about him, a trait that seemed to be shared by many of the Vulcans, but it didn't carry the connotations of aloofness or arrogance that was typically associated with it. Dark hair was nearly completely taken over by grey, but his eyes still seemed youthful.

She blushed as those brown eyes met hers, embarrassed at being caught.

Thankfully a loud and familiar voice grabbed the attention of everyone in the corridor.

"I've already told ye, I was ordered here by me Captain."

"You were not granted permission-"

"Someone called Salek or something okay'd it. Isn't that right, Captain?"

A jovial looking Scotty loped over to them as if he didn't have a larger-than-average Vulcan hounding him.

The Vulcan stopped as he saw Salek. "Osu Salek, is this stranger correct in his declaration?"

"He is."

The Vulcan stepped away from Scotty, who shot him a look that practically screamed 'I told you so'. "Nevertheless, he circumvented the protocols in place and bypassed the regulations established by-"

"If he's broken regulation, why haven't you detained him?" Kirk asked with folded arms.

The Vulcan shifted his stance. "His arrival was… unforeseen. I did not have adequate time to-"

Scotty raised his hands in the air in mock surrender, but he couldn't keep the smile from his face. "Sounds an awful lot like you're blaming me for being complacent about the security of your transporter pads, laddie."

Uhura winced at the confused reaction the Vulcan had to being called 'laddie'. Thankfully the topic wasn't dwelt upon.

Salek stepped forward. "Return to your station. The Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_ is here with my permission. Take this opportunity to assess the condition of the facilities in place to prevent uninvited access to our transporter room. Breach is clearly possible and therefore unacceptable." He turned his back on the Vulcan in a clear dismissal.

"So you're goin' by 'Salek' now, eh?" Scotty asked, and McCoy looked up to the ceiling for strength. Scotty knew this Vulcan too?

"Indeed. Let us not waste any further time, though I please accept my compliments at your ability to beam directly to our transporter pads. I would like to discuss how you achieved this with you, time permitting."

"My pleasure, man. And it really wasn't that difficult – your security systems are too reliant on-"

Uhura decided that McCoy would be the best company at this moment in time, and so they trailed behind, not even pretending to understand what they were talking about. Kirk, for all of his declarations of ignorance, seemed to be keeping up with the three technical specialists and the Vulcan relatively well.

"Is this how it feels when I start jabbering on about platelets and cellular regeneration?" McCoy said to her with a gleam in his eye.

She let out a low laugh, glad for a break from her thoughts. She was missing something important and it was bothering her. "Yes, only we're also cowering from your highly imaginative cursing."

"Ah, I only do that to make sure you're listening. Sometimes I think a Doctor on a Starship is the most ignored person in the universe."

She patted his arm in patronising sympathy as they followed the others through a set of sliding doors and onto an observation deck that was separated from the individual work spaces by a floor to ceiling wall of glass.

Unlike the scientist at the Agricultural facility, Salek didn't need them to specify the level of information they required before launching into a description of the work.

"Lieutenant Uhura, this may be of most interest to you." He gestured towards the room the other side of the glass and she stepped forward and peered down at the working scientists.

She looked at him excitedly when she recognised some of the components that were laid out on one of the work stations. "You're improving subspace radio?" She turned back and squinted at the pieces of hardware. "Speed or clarity of transmissions?"

"Both. Relay networks are still a relatively new technology and so there is opportunity for a multitude of improvements."

She nodded absently, absorbed in watching the console that was displaying the experiment. "There isn't much point in smoothing incoming calls if it's too late to do anything about it, and there's no point in getting a message quickly but not being able to hear it properly. No use improving one without the other."

"Indeed, though for obvious reasons we are focussing on speed."

She winced. It was still strange hearing the references to the event in a roundabout way.

"Would you make the research available to Starfleet?"

Salek moved his hands to grip them at the base of his spine and didn't respond immediately. "The decision has not yet been made."

"Understandable." She sighed. "But still, it would be nice to not have to listen through static when I'm reaching out to the edges of the neutral zone." Despite their diplomatic duties, they'd still had to carry out standard operations, and scanning the neutral zone was one she typically enjoyed. It was like eavesdropping on a thousand conversations.

"I'm sure that Engineering would be able to sharpen the receptors." Salek looked to Scotty, who huffed in indignation.

"That sounded an awful lot like an order there, sir."

She held her breath, waiting for a reprimand for his audacity but to her surprise, Salek tipped a shoulder minutely in a shrug and his eyes gleamed with humour.

"Merely a suggestion. A happy Communications Officer makes for a happy ship, if I recall correctly."

Kirk barked a laugh. "You're not wrong there."

Again, she felt like she was missing something. It was as if they were discussing _her_, but Salek obviously had never served with her… she froze.

How could Salek recall serving on a ship if he had spent his time with the VSA? Unless he had somehow managed to do both?

Uhura narrowed her eyes. About to question the statement, Salek spoke, therefore cutting off her inquiry.

"If you would follow me."

The next room had provoked an in depth discussion about warp coils and power generation which went almost completely over her head, and the one after that had been about monitoring seismic and meteorological disturbances which she understood a little more.

Apparently it was a project of necessity as they had only recently had the opportunity to start investigating the qualities of the new planet in greater depth than the cursory information they had gathered initially.

They stepped back out into the corridor from the observation desk and went down a level in a turbo lift. She knew that there was no physical change in the temperature of the air, but knowing that they were going underground brought a chill to her skin.

Salek pressed a button and a door she hadn't noticed slid open on the wall beside her, and they all crowded onto the observation deck.

"What are they?" Kirk asked, pointing at a series of coffin shaped machines with wires that were lined up in the centre of the room.

"Cryostatic chambers," McCoy said, his voice unexpectedly neutral. She didn't know what to make of it. He was usually so easy to read.

"Indeed."

McCoy turned to Salek and fixed him in a stare. "Are you using them for preservation or for healing?"

"In a manner of speaking, both. The underlying theory of this research is that if metabolic processes and cell decay are slowed by cooling the body, the manipulating this temperature can provide an opportunity for the mind to heal."

McCoy's expression hardened a little as he looked back into the lab. "Are you suggesting artificially induced… Is this about that meditation you're always banging on about?"

Salek inclined his head. "I was told that you expressed concern about how we were meeting the needs of our people, and so I made the decision to show you this. It may be unorthodox, but I hope it reassures you that we are doing the most that we can to encourage the recovery of Vulcans suffering trauma.

"The nature of our race does not allow more human forms of treatment to be viable. Psychotherapy for instance."

Uhura had to agree. Vulcans discussing their feelings openly just would not happen.

"And drug therapy has proved ineffective in the past in treating the conditions caused by the breaking of familial and pair bonds. I hope that this research will allow a resolution through our natural means of healing the mind, whilst being externally monitored to ensure safety."

She heard Chekov whisper his confusion about what it was they were talking about.

Scotty leant close and clasped his shoulder. "Cryo-chambers freeze ye. Puts ye in a coma so you can't die, lad. Keeps ye going until they figure out how to fix ye."

As they left the room and went back in the turbo lift, Uhura couldn't shake the sadness that had settled in her chest. Were they really suffering that much that they had to isolate themselves completely from the living world to try to fix themselves inside?

Spock's admission that Vulcans continually needed to replace their _asenoi_ made sense, as did his impenetrable coldness and attempt to purge all emotion.

She shuddered. Forcing himself not to feel hadn't worked – would he need to go into a state of temporary paralysis to sort through his experience?

The mood of the crew had been visibly dampened by their brief visit to the cryostasis lab. Even Scotty and Chekov, who between them could usually cheer their way through any problem, were muted.

Salek remained silent until they reached his lab, but she was sure that he had also been affected. His pace was slower than before and his brown eyes not so bright.

Nonetheless, as soon as he stepped inside he continued as if he had never stopped speaking.

"As I mentioned earlier, my current research is based on trilithium and increasing the margin of error in transporter beaming." Salek paused and Scotty seized the opportunity to speak, and did so quite cheerfully.

"Bombs and beaming- not one to focus, are ye?"

"Bombs? Why are you looking into bombs?" Kirk stepped forwards and spoke with such urgency his panic rubbed off on her.

Salek seemed to grow exhausted before their eyes. "Trilithium is an explosive agent capable of stopping nuclear fusion. It is not technically a bomb."

"But it has the potential to be used as one." Kirk lifted his chin in a challenge which Salek didn't back down from. Turns out his assurances that Kirk would have no trouble understanding were proving to be true.

"I cannot deny the potential of the substance."

Kirk widened his stance and grew even more defiant. "Then if you're not making bombs, what are you doing with it?"

Seconds passed before Salek answered. "I am attempting to create a device that makes it possible to prevent nuclear fusion from occurring, and therefore stop the generation of power of both weapons and a ship's energy supply."

"So a defensive weapon."

"Yes."

"Hold up there." Scotty had moved closer to one of the workstations and was shamelessly looking at the sketchpad embedded into the desk top. "We don't have the technology to produce a reactor that could do what ye want without blowing the whole place up."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Which is what he's researching, obviously."

Scotty ignored him and glared at Salek with a mixture of anger and frustration. He jabbed at him in the air with his finger and Uhura was horrified at his decorum but found herself paralysed to do anything about it.

"Ye doin' it again! Ye not even developing it in the right order – just jumping in without 'discovering' the basics!" He bent his fingers in the universal sign for sarcasm but she had no idea why. Or what was going on at all, actually.

Kirk was the only one that didn't look stumped.

"Isn't this breaking all kinds of laws of physics or something? Is this goin' to mess up the future by you bringing this here?"

And now he was talking about the future?

They fell silent as the door slid open, though Scotty's face was flushed bright red and his chest was panting slightly from the exertion of his almost-shouting.

"Spock." Kirk rubbed his eyes and his tone was both full of warning and surrender.

Scotty slapped his hands against his thighs and said, "Oh geez, just what we need. Spock, an unexpected surprise."

"Lieutenant Commander," Spock said, addressing Scotty as if he hadn't spoken. "I have had a number of messages sent to me regarding a red-headed human speaking a guttural dialect that beamed directly into the transporter room with the permission of Salek. I was curious as I have never heard of a Vulcan named Salek, and I was unable to explain how the Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_ was capable of beaming directly into the VSA, bypassing their measures."

Spock turned to face Salek and both Scotty and Kirk tensed.

The Vulcans tilted their heads and Uhura was sure that a protractor would show that the movements were both to the same angle.

She could hear her heart beating in response to the thick tension in the room as she took a few steps to the side so she could see them both in profile.

They were studying each other intently and she studied them.

Same height, same build despite the cloaks, same rounded ears…

She grabbed McCoy's arm with one hand and stumbled back against a table. "_Spock?_"

They both turned to her at the same time, same concern flashing in their eyes at the confusion, shock and surprise that made her voice barely a whisper.

Their heads snapped back to face one another.

"Fascinating," Spock said softly as he closed his eyes and kept them shut. He didn't say anything else and no one else could either.

Kirk's apprehension, the recognition in the entrance, the comments about serving on board a ship, why Spock had never heard of a scientist named Salek, Scotty's comments about the future…

McCoy pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Uhura?" She raised a shaky hand to her mouth, her eyes darting between the two men – one with his eyes shut, one with them open.

Her voice was muffled by her palm but they all heard her. "Spock. They're both Spock."

Three sets of incredulous eyes were on her, but Kirk and Scotty were watching the two men, waiting for a reaction.

"Captain," Spock's voice was more unsteady than she'd ever heard it. Her chest burned from her held breath as she waiting for him to continue. "I believe we need to have a conversation."

She blinked but Spock was already walking out of the door, Kirk half-running after him.

She wanted to press her face into McCoy's shoulder but couldn't draw her eyes away. McCoy pulled her closer.

"I don't know what's going on," he said, half-dazed, half-confused.

Scotty moved into Salek's line of sight, who was staring at the door where Spock had just departed. "Salek, or Spock, or whatever I'm supposed to call ye, I need you to tell me that the universe isn't about to fold in on itself like you said it would."

"It will not."

"So you lied before."

"Vulcans do not lie."

"No but you bloody well mislead!" Scotty paced whilst rubbing the top of his head with one hand and resting the other on his hip. "Jim was worried sick that he'd ruin everything by slipping and telling someone about ye. And I damn near had a heart attack when I saw you standing there next to him."

The Vulcan remained unmoving despite the verbal assault. Everyone else watched and listened, trying to make sense of it all.

Scotty was not finished. "How many Vulcans know who you are? Really?"

"My father, the elders and the VSA. Those that did not need to know were not told. I am from an alternate reality. My existence does not endanger this one."

Chekov coughed. "You were brought in with Nero."

"Yes."

Uhura stifled a sob but McCoy felt it. He rubbed her shoulder but it did nothing to ease the mess she was feeling.

"You're alone."

Salek looked at her then with the most genuine expression she'd ever seen from a Vulcan. He looked heartbroken, but not for himself.

"I am alone, but I am not lonely. Do not worry, Nyota."

How could she not.

"No offence, but I think we should cut the tour short." McCoy was suddenly all business.

Salek inclined his head. "That would be most wise. It was a pleasure seeing you all."

"Don't think you've got out of it, I'm staying to hear about that research ye doin' on beaming."

McCoy didn't loosen his grip on her as they stood and she realised it was as much for him as it was for her.

Even Sulu looked pale, but Chekov was frowning. "I vill stay." He spoke with a nod, his accent the only thing showing the strain the revelation was having on him.

"Scotty, make sure our little Russian gets back to the Embassy in one piece."

As they headed towards the doors, she turned and gave Salek one last long look, which he returned, before the doors slid shut.

They didn't go back to the Embassy immediately, instead wandering around the city until the heat and wind became too much. They didn't talk about it.

Once they returned, they went into the small dining room where they'd had breakfast and ate a little whilst playing cards. They didn't talk about it.

At dinner, they all ate together. Chekov excitedly shared what he'd learned that afternoon and they drank the sweet Vulcan wine that Uhura had enjoyed the day before. They didn't talk about it.

Tomorrow, she and McCoy were going to the Cultural Institute with Sybok, whilst Kirk, Chekov and Sulu would be visiting the Defence Institute. There was a twinge of jealousy in her stomach when she realised that would be the only chance to see the martial arts that only those with Vulcan physiology could master, but it was assuaged with the knowledge that she'd be discovering things about Vulcan culture that very few outsiders knew about.

They still hadn't spoken about it when they started to head to their quarters, and she doubted that they would, at least not before they'd had the chance for it to sink in.

She slipped into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and propped herself up against the headboard of her bed. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep for a long time, so decided to try tiring herself by reading.

She had the computer set the lights low and the temperature warm as she settled down to read.

She'd barely finished a paragraph before she heard a soft knocking on her door.

Hesitantly, she padded over to the door and slid it open.

It was Spock.

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Reviews are love!

I wonder what Spock's doing there...


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

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Though he must have heard her breath catch when the door opened, his eyes remained downcast when he spoke. "I was not content being alone, and against my better judgement I find myself here." The words were said softly yet with confusion, as if he truly didn't understand why he was seeking out her company.

He looked up then, though not meeting her eyes directly. Even so she saw his furrowed brow and troubled expression.

Everything about him screamed exhaustion. Sloped shoulders, the uncertainty in his words, the way his hands hung limply at his side…

She stepped back to let him enter. A lurching in her stomach when the soft fabric of his robe brushed against the bare skin of her leg made her eyes close.

When they opened they found him stood in the center of the room, a statue.

The door slid shut with a mechanical swish and Uhura swallowed, considerably aware of the potent atmosphere that told her of the significance of what was about to happen.

She moved around him and carefully folded herself into the corner of the small sofa beneath the window. She watched hesitation flicker across his features before he sat in the armchair beside her.

The only sound was the rushing of liquid as she poured two glasses of water into cups from the jug that seemed to refill itself.

She took a sip as she waited for him to start. He was struggling, she could see it in his eyes – that warring with himself that she's seen when they'd been at the Academy. The best method then had been to wait until he had steeled his resolve, and she decided to do the same now.

Finally he lifted his head. "I spoke with the Captain." His voice was detached but restraint clouded its clarity.

Uhura curled her legs underneath her. "What did he say?"

His eyes remained fixed on the strip of lighting above the headboard of her bed. "That he had felt compelled to keep the existence of Spock Prime a secret. He had been convinced of causing irrevocable damage if any knowledge of his existence was shared."

"Scotty implied as much after you'd left." She paused. "How have you gone a year without knowing about him?" She frowned, uneasy about talking as if he was a different person.

"We were kept apart. Initially I was confused in regards to the refusal to allow me to contribute to the work of the VSA, but that was dispelled when I joined the Fleet's engineering team." He seemed to be looking inwards as his eyes had grown distant. The frown was still there, and she had to grip the arm of the sofa to stop herself from reaching out to him.

"I see now that the name 'Salek' had been carefully avoided in conversation."

Her fingers dug into the course fabric as an unexpected wave of anger flooded through her. "But why did they keep it from you in the first place?"

He looked to her then and her heart constricted at the emptiness in his eyes. "Upon speaking to my father, it was deemed that my reaction to the situation was unpredictable, and so forcing a meeting was illogical when we could conceivably never need meet."

"But-" She moved and planted her feet firmly on the ground. "But what about your feelings about it? Surely telling you earlier would have reduced any 'unpredictable reactions' that would have been caused than by allowing the possibility of meeting him by chance!"

He was more present then than he had been since he entered the room. He tilted his head a little and watched her carefully. "You know that Vulcans do not consider feelings when making a logical decision."

She slammed her palm down against the armrest. "But their inability to predict your feelings on the matter was the basis of their decision!"

He said nothing.

She bounced her palm on the armrest a few more times, this time not so violently, before asking almost shyly, "How do you feel? About it all, I mean."

Spock's shoulders dropped a little and his eyes moved back to rest on the light above the headboard.

So that was the crux of it.

She inhaled deeply and brought her legs back up onto the sofa. "I know that talking about it isn't easy for you, talking about your emotions, but meditating about it clearly isn't working." His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but the shadows above his cheeks indicated a tightening of the muscles there.

Her words became tentative. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I'll still be here just for company. I'm trying to help you, but I don't know how, and-"

She stopped.

His head inclined towards her at the sudden silence, and his whole body turned to face her when she let out of disbelieving laugh.

"Sorry, I've just realized something." She picked up her water and took a sip before continuing. "I've spent the last year avoiding all my own problems by trying to fix everyone else's." She laughed again and wished that she had something else to drink. Water didn't seem like a fitting drink for the direction this conversation had taken.

"I do not understand. I have always thought of you as a considerate and relatively selfless person. The actions you describe are not a deviation of your normative personality." His frown was obvious now, as was the fact that she was the sole object of his attention.

She warmed at the intensity of it.

"Since being here I've noticed that there have been a number of deviations, I assure you." She ran a palm over her hair and held onto her ponytail. "Dinner the other night was the first time I'd worn my hair down in a year – I used to have it down any time I wasn't at the Academy, and it was the first time I'd worn a dress – again, something I did all the time. That night was the first time I've actually paid attention to my scars, and when I saw T'Saria again," she stumbled a little. "When I saw T'Saria again, I realized how long it had been since I'd been _happy._"

Her vision blurred and her eyes stung as she looked at him with as much integrity as she could muster. "How terrible is that? I've let myself go for so long without being happy. That's what I mean by saying that I've focused too much on helping everyone else. I've put them all before myself, and that's not a healthy way to live. Not for so long."

She swiped her eyes and watched her finger run over the rough fabric of the sofa, suddenly too self-conscious to see how Spock received her outburst. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't be."

Uhura shook her head and she felt her hair graze the back of her neck. "That probably didn't make much sense."

"It made more than you probably intended."

Her head snapped up then. Spock's eyes were distant again, but they seemed contemplative rather than self-reproaching.

"The act of speaking has allowed you to make sense of things you previously did not understand."

"I suppose it has." She didn't want to say anything that would distract him from his own thought process.

"This has not been possible for me. If I could bring myself to speak, there would be nobody willing to listen."

The way he stated it as fact made her heart break. "I'm willing to listen. I always have been and always will be." Her voice was small but determined.

As their eyes met, he had rearranged his features into that expressionless mask, but she knew hers was imploring. Her fingers twitched from the strength of her desire to do something, anything, to make this easier for him.

A year was long enough for both of them to neglect themselves.

Finally he spoke. "To explain is impossible… There are no words." When Uhura looked away he continued. "Vulcan emotions… Some of them do not have a human counterpart."

"I guess being telepathically bonded negates the need."

"Indeed."

"Why haven't you had help from your family?"

"My father has distanced himself from our bond. I expect his withdrawal is as much to protect me as it is to protect himself."

"And Sybok?" She winced as she asked, knowing that their relationship was not a particularly good one.

"He severed his bonds with us when he was shunned for his beliefs and moved off-planet."

She nodded because she didn't trust herself to speak. Her breath felt heavy in her lungs and a prickling was building once more between her eyes at the hopelessness she felt for Spock.

To deal with the grief alone…

"Uhura, it was not my intention to cause you distress." He was watching her with a strained expression. His fingers stretched out towards her before he brought his hand into his lap.

She took a gulp of water and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I don't know how you've coped without anyone to share it with, Spock. It makes me so sad to think that you hurt so much that you wanted to stop feeling all together."

Tired of trying to stop it, she let the moisture pooling in her eyes to fall. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and noticed that he was looking intently at her legs.

"You were injured badly." His voice was not as restrained as normal, and she clearly heard his disquiet.

She ran a hand over her right calf, the one that took the brunt of most of the shrapnel.

"You knew." She'd mentioned it when T'Saria had asked her to tell her about her experience of _Va'Pak_.

He continued to stare, his eyes following the silver network of scars. He parted his lips but no sounds came out.

"But it's different seeing it for yourself," she supplied. His hand twitched again.

He tore himself from his study of the scars and when their eyes met, she was stunned at the concern and confliction she saw there.

Without thinking, she leant forward and put her hand on his arm.

He grew impossibly stiller and she pulled her hand away as if shocked. When he didn't move, she inched her hand forward with obvious deliberateness and eased it onto his forearm in the same place as before.

She could feel his warmth through the thin, silky fabric. She prayed he wouldn't make her move. She felt closer to him than she had ever had before.

He took a deep, almost steadying breath. "I cannot stop thinking about the role I played in your being assigned to the _Farragut._"

She stiffened. "Don't feel guilty, Spock. I don't blame you for what happened." He really was trying to tell her how he felt, it was just in a roundabout way. She just had to listen. A thrill skipped through her chest at the realization, though she forced herself to be calm as she tentatively asked, "But why did you? Stop me from being on the _Enterprise_ I mean."

"As I told you at the time, it was an attempt to remove all implications of favoritism."

Uhura was not satisfied with his answer. Her voice hardened, though it was still quiet. "But you weren't showing any signs of favoritism."

He looked at her then and his eyes were beseeching, as if he was asking her for something. But she didn't know what. She moved her hand back to rest on the chair, a little afraid of what he was going to say.

"Uhura, you were my assistant, I allowed you to use my office to study in, we ate meals together off campus-"

"Loads of professors had that kind of relationship with their assistants. When you spend so much time with someone it's hard not to become friends."

He sounded almost pained. "With other professors that may have been the case, Uhura, but for me it was not. Other faculty members noticed the difference in my treatment towards you and had begun to make… inappropriate comments.

"Your academic achievements were becoming the topic of intense scrutiny and the speed at which you gained proficiency in Romulan despite you having no formal teaching-"

"You were my tutor," she interrupted, but from his slight frown she could see that was the point he was making. "Those accusations are ridiculous! The only reason I learned Romulan so quickly was because the stems are similar to Vulcan and I made a point of studying it every day."

"I know."

She stared at the wall as she thought. She hadn't realized the extent of his change in behavior to having her as an assistant. What did that say about how he felt about her? Had she been right when she thought that their relationship had been changing before it had all happened?

Slowly, she turned to face him. He was looking at her legs again, his eyes the definition of intense scrutiny. Tentatively, she put her hand back onto his forearm. His eyes did not waver.

She changed the subject from the _Farragut_ and their time at the Academy, skipping over it as if it hadn't happened. "Do you understand now? Do you know how hopeless I feel when I can't see any way how to help you?" She was pushing him now, they both knew it. His arm tensed underneath her palm but relaxed just as quickly.

"You are helping."

Her answering smile was small but the relief she felt was staggering.

Her emotions were becoming too much, so she tried to joke, an attempt to lighten her mood and the weight of their conversation. "You don't know how hard it is for me not to hug you right now." Her tone was both teasing and tired.

Unexpectedly, his lip twitched into his ever so slight smile. "Small steps."

She threw her head back and laughed. "You know I'll hold you to that." She squeezed his arm before letting go.

The loss of contact left her feeling bereft, and she hoped the slight tightening of his lips meant that he felt the same way.

He stood in one fluid movement. "Thank you."

"Anytime." She lifted her eyebrows to show the sincerity of those words, and his nod meant that he understood.

"But it is getting late and you require sleep and I wish to meditate on what you have said."

She was surprised and failed to hide it, because Spock's eyebrow lifted. "It is illogical to dismiss advice well meant."

"If you say so." She shrugged but was thrilled.

He moved towards the door but paused after only a few steps. "Be careful tomorrow. Strong winds are predicted." He hesitated. "Also, I warn that it is in your best interest to avoid all physical contact with Sybok. He is an exceptionally strong touch-telepath and I assure you that the experience will not be anything like what you have shared with T'Saria."

She nodded mutely as he opened the door. "Goodnight, Spock," she managed as his silhouette filled the frame, made darker by the bright lights of the hallway.

"Goodnight, Uhura," he replied almost tenderly as the door slid between them.

She didn't turn the lights off when she curled under the covers that night. And it was a long time before she was able to sleep.

* * *

Reviews are love, now more than ever! I've been really anxious about how this conversation would be received! Let me know and put my mind at rest. As always, criticism is appreciated too!

Next we spend some more time with Sybok, and what will Uhura and McCoy discover at the Cultural Institute?


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not mine. Still.

Over 100 reviews! Woo! Thank you for your support, it really means a lot.

* * *

She was waiting with McCoy in the foyer of the Embassy for Sybok to take them to the Cultural Institute. The others had already left with one of the instructors and there was a twinge of regret that she wouldn't be able to learn about the Vulcan martial arts along with them.

Her sign prompted McCoy to gently slap her thigh. "Not long now, darlin'."

"I'm not worried about waiting – I just wish we could have seen the martial arts as well."

"Can't say either option particularly holds my interest, but I'd say this is the lesser of two evils."

"I find the ease of your physical contact fascinating." Sybok had appeared as if from nowhere, and McCoy made a point of keeping his hand resting on her leg for a moment longer before shifting it back to his own.

"Yeah, don't be getting any ideas," he mumbled. Sybok of course heard, which obviously was what McCoy had wanted, and proceeded to twist his lips into a smile that seemed even more unnerving in the light of day.

Uhura pushed herself to her feet with an unaccustomed weariness. She hadn't slept well at all, and she had woken up feeling as emotionally conflicted as she had when she was lying in the dark.

McCoy also stood and, to her irritation, made a point of standing closer to her than usual. She scowled at him but he paid no attention, instead putting his hand to the small of her back and guided her towards the entrance. "I take it we're taking a hovercar? Looks pretty windy out there."

The Doctor seemed to take a certain amount of glee from the way that Sybok was looking at the place where the two of their bodies met with obvious consideration.

She pushed herself free of his hand and glared. "Don't play games."

McCoy held up his hands in surrender but a mischievous glint remained in his eyes.

Sybok was again studying their exchange, only this time he focused her attention on her. He didn't answer McCoy's question until she pointedly raised an eyebrow.

"Your assumption is correct. A storm is expected later today."

The wind was considerably stronger and the air much warmer than it had been the day before. Her eyes stung with the force of the dust and grit pelting her as she hurried the short distance from the top of the steps to the hovercar waiting at the bottom.

She climbed in and pressed herself as far as she could into the corner of the seat. Thankfully McCoy took the seat next to her, which meant that Sybok had no alternative but to take the one opposite.

Whilst this meant that he was as distant from her as the space would allow, he had the opportunity to survey them both with ease. They said nothing during the journey, though she was glad it was short because she didn't think she could have coped much longer with the sensation of his eyes on her. It made her skin prickle and a nervous tingle spread the length of her spine.

If anything, she would heed Spock's warning to not let Sybok touch her, though knowing of his strong telepathic skills made him seem even more disconcerting then he had before.

She stepped out to find they'd been dropped off outside the museum-like building they'd seen on their first day when they'd walked through the city centre. It seemed so long ago.

"Please hurry. I do not want the particles caught up in the wind to damage your skin and eyes."

Sybok rapidly climbed the steps and she followed as quickly as she could, her hair being tugged to the right by the strength of it. One should never underestimate the practicality of a ponytail.

The ambient temperature of the Institute, which now she was inside seemed remarkably like a museum after all, was a welcome relief.

"How long do you reckon the weather'll be like that?" McCoy asked, rubbing one hand roughly through his hair and brushing down his clothes with the other, his nose wrinkled in a grimace.

"A few hours, maybe more. It generally gets worse before it gets better." Sybok's posture was more relaxed than other Vulcans, and his hands swung freely at his sides. It would take a while before she got used to his movement rather than the stillness she had come to expect.

"Brilliant. It wouldn't surprise me if 'worse' means 'like a hurricane'."

"You would be correct. Though the sandstorms pass quite quickly, so there is no need to worry." His lip curled a little. "I am glad that you decided to accompany Lieutenant Uhura, Doctor. I find your manner of speaking most interesting."

McCoy scowled which seemed to add to Sybok's delight, judging by the way his lip curled further. "You wouldn't be the first and I doubt you'll be the last."

Sybok clapped and the sound echoed around the stone entrance hall, making her jump at the way it cut through the quiet of the building. "Rather than an official tour, I thought you might find it more enjoyable to walk around and be led by your interests. I shall then endeavor to explain to you the exhibitions to the best of my ability."

His Standard wasn't as neutral as the other Vulcans, his accent occasionally becoming apparent. And whilst he spoke in the same formal register as the others, which she guessed was a result of learning it from the formal language of Vulcan, the way that he casually referred to emotions was intriguing.

"Sybok." She didn't add the honorific 'Osu' because she didn't think he'd appreciate it. "Do you also refer to emotional responses when you are speaking in Vulcan?"

His head tilted at her interest. "I do, though it is much easier to convey sensations in Standard. The sentence structure and formality of Vulcan is impeding."

She nodded.

"If you like, I can speak to you in Vulcan and you can determine my success for yourself."

She couldn't stop herself from smiling. "I'd like that a lot."

"Great." McCoy looked to the ceiling and his sarcasm gave Sybok so much enjoyment that his teeth became visible with the widening of his smile.

Suppressing the negative reaction she had to this, Uhura tried to imagine if Spock would look the same if he allowed himself to fully smile. But to her frustration, she couldn't imagine it.

"Do Vulcans even have words for emotions?" McCoy asked unexpectedly as he folded his arms. He looked between the two of them for an answer.

She nodded. "Yes. _Mak_ for example, means 'joy'."

"But why haven't they become obsolete?"

Uhura opened her mouth to answer, but Sybok beat her to it. "Doctor, how much do you know about language theory?"

"Not a lot, admittedly."

"There is a belief that has been around for centuries that if you name something, you can have power over it. You must be able to acknowledge something for what it is for you to attempt to understand it."

She nodded and Sybok continued. "I suppose you know little about the Time of Awakening?"

McCoy looked stumped but she was glad at least that she knew what he was referring to. "It's when Vulcans adopted the teachings of Surak and embraced self-discipline and logic."

He looked at her then with his head tilted and a slight tightness around his brows. "You know what it is from reading, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Then I shall show you things that you cannot find in books."

He led them through a series of exhibition spaces, completely ignoring their contents until they came to a stop in a long narrow room at the rear of the building.

The lights were dimmer than the rooms they'd just been in and there was no natural light.

"Wow, someone doesn't want people coming here," McCoy said as he looked over his shoulder from where they came. "Even the door smaller than the rest."

"That was the intention when the building was designed." Sybok swung his arms at his sides like he had earlier. It was as if the idea of being still was repulsive to him. "If the board could have provided a logical argument as to why it should be left out, this room would not be here at all."

"Why?" Uhura span around, trying to see what was so offensive, but nothing was jumping out at her. Though from their position at the end of the room and the lack of lighting, she doubted she would see much of anything until she was stood right in front of it.

"Because this collection is dedicated to the period before the Time of Awakening."

Her stomach lurched and her natural curiosity grew tenfold. How often had she wondered what had come before the acceptance of logic as the dominant feature of Vulcan culture? Barely anything was written about it, and when she had asked Spock when she had been his assistant, he had brushed it off with empty phrases such as 'It was a time of Violence'.

"I feel very privileged," McCoy said, his voice reverberating through the space, and for once he wasn't being sarcastic.

Sybok stepped further into the room and stopped in front of a wall display. They joined him and Uhura gasped when she saw what it was.

A series of masks were hung in rows, almost grotesque in the expressions that were depicted. Snarling mouths bearing teeth as if lunging at a throat, eyes so dark and full of passion they seemed ready to consume, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, mouths open in an empty scream…

Spock's words from the night before came to mind, his resigned admittance that there were no words to describe the emotions that Vulcans felt.

She was beginning to understand.

Uhura looked between the Vulcan next to her and the faces on the wall. She could not reconcile the two. Though she found his smile disconcerting, it was nothing compared to the horror that she felt at the leer of one of the masks- the slight parting of the lips that revealed knife-sharp teeth and led to cold, unfeeling eyes and a forehead that wrinkled from the way that the brows were drawn together…

She shuddered.

Sybok tilted his head at her reaction. "These are contemporary masks, not reproductions. These are not propaganda designed to frighten the young into rejecting their emotions, but adequately portray the emotional state of the Vulcan race at the time before Surak."

"Before Surak?" McCoy lifted an eyebrow and looked disbelievingly at the masks. "You're telling me that these emotional reactions don't occur anymore?"

Sybok seemed pleased by the Doctor's distinction. "I did not say that. Surak merely advocated the importance of learning to control and suppress these emotions, and the tool he used was logic.

"Vulcan children are taught self-restraint before they are truly aware of its importance. As someone who finds the attempt to repress all emotion as disagreeable, I can say that from my experience that the emotions are still there, there are merely not as strong as these masks claim."

"Evolution?" Uhura said, unable to take her eyes off of one mask in particular. It was a face of pure despair, eyes cast upwards beneath knitted brow, a wailing mouth so full of pain that Uhura found herself breathless.

"To some extent, I believe so. The muscles in our faces are now unable to contort in such a manner and work in isolation. After Spock brought it to my attention I contemplated why it is that humans find my _smile_ to be unnerving, and I believe this explains it. My eyes, eyebrows and cheeks do not move in tandem with my mouth as a human's does.

"The phenomenon can also be seen in the domestication of wild animals."

Uhura had not been expecting that comparison.

"You're serious." McCoy turned his back to the masks and was looking at Sybok almost challengingly.

"Indeed. It is well documented that it takes only thirty five generations and forty years for a Terran silver fox to become domesticated."

"So you think you've bred the violence out? Because I think it would take a lot more than thirty five generations to get rid of that kind of response." McCoy pointed to an intensely vicious looking mask which she couldn't bear to give more than a cursory glance.

"Of course not. I merely believe that we are in the process of doing so. However I also believe that we are potentially losing something of value if we continue to seek to reject our natural emotional responses." He raised his palms in a supplicating gesture and McCoy appeared a little appeased, though not entirely.

"No offense but I don't think that rejecting that is such a bad thing. I mean, things must have gotten pretty bad for this Surak to come up with a whole new philosophy to try to control it."

Uhura smiled a little at McCoy's quick ability to learn new information. It was a quality that was often overlooked, much like it was in Kirk. Her eyes remained sweeping over the masks so could only listen to their conversation.

"The only word I can think of to adequately describe the Vulcan way of life is 'savage'. Very little progress was made in any area besides art and philosophy and the uncontrollable aggression very nearly wiped out our species. The average age of death was extremely low, even more so for females." He paused. "The propensity for destruction was not controlled."

"What that T'Lang said at dinner the other night makes a lot more sense now."

"Indeed. The Elders do not accept our arguments that this is no longer the reality of our emotional state, and if the Elders believe something, the common people are not keen to disagree. However things are changing and the concept of allowing emotions is becoming a topic of interest for many."

"I can see how they'd want to prevent danger at all costs. You said it nearly wiped out your species once, who's to say it wouldn't happen again?"

"What about happiness," Uhura interrupted. She couldn't take her eyes off of a mask at the end of the third row. In amongst the expressions of cruelty and horror, the single representation of happiness was easily missed. It was pure joy. _Mak_ as she had told McCoy earlier.

"You understand." Sybok moved soundlessly next to her, and she didn't cower away like she had done before. "Repressing the negative also comes at a cost of repressing the positive."

She frowned at this and she felt the corners of her mouth pull down in sadness.

Sybok seemed to notice this as he shifted so that he was slightly facing her. "But I assure you, Lieutenant Uhura, we still do feel happiness. The pursuit of it is truly one of the most fulfilling aspects of my life."

His words did nothing to reduce the weight that she was feeling in her chest. It was adding to the remnants of her conversation with Spock the night before and she was becoming so _tired_ by it all.

Her desolate sigh made Sybok's eyebrows become more pointed - his approximation of a frown. "I have caused you to have an emotional disturbance. I wished only to help you learn." He paused as if thinking. "Come, I will show you that positive emotions still reside in Vulcans. It may help you become more hopeful."

"Really? And what is it you will be showing us this time?" McCoy walked past Uhura and rubbed her arm as he did so. Sybok watched the gesture with eyes that narrowed momentarily. His expression was once again placid as he answered.

"Art."

They followed him back the way they came, though Uhura saw a display case that contained spears and weapons that looked like maces, the handles painted in a dark emerald green that made her look away quickly and hurry to catch up with the other two.

They stopped in one of the rooms they'd walked through, but her eyes were immediately drawn to the series of windows that lined the wall in front of them.

"It's safe to say we're stuck here for a while," McCoy said as he watched the swirling orange sand pelt through the air outside and clatter against the windows.

"It's beautiful, in a strange way. We don't get sandstorms like this in Kenya but I used to imagine it. It sounds like dry rain when it's beating against the glass like that."

McCoy gave her a smile that almost seemed sad and Sybok was studying her again with his head canted to the left.

She wished she hadn't said anything.

"So what are we here to see exactly?" McCoy span on his heel and rocked from side to side. "What does a Vulcan class as 'art'?"

"Look around. We are in a gallery space. I brought you here to look at some paintings."

It was arranged similarly to Terran galleries, with the open space divided with free standing walls in the same burnt orange colour of the other walls and the dusty sand outside. The artworks were displayed with precision in the distance between the paintings that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.

"This is a small number of what has been donated from the off-world private collections. Of course, most has been lost."

The sadness she felt was almost overshadowed by the rush of anticipation she felt at being able to see any Vulcan art at all. In keeping with the theme, Vulcans were notoriously secretive about this part of their culture as they were with all other aspects of it. Only a small number of images were available and they came up again and again.

Trying to keep her excitement from her face, she slowly moved until she was looking up and the first column of paintings.

She assumed their topics were Vulcan itself, going by the dark reds and the grainy textures she could see. They were close ups and abstracts of what had been their previous home, details of the sky and the rocks, the sharp ridges of a distant mountain range and the cool darkness of the starry night. She felt a warmth from them, a potent sense of contentment.

"_Powerful, is it not?"_ Sybok stood next to her and awaited a response with an expectant widening of his eyes.

"_It is,_" she replied in Vulcan, the use of the language seeming more apt in the setting. "_The attachment to a sense of place is remarkable._"

"_Indeed, you again surprise me with your insight._" He blinked slowly. "_The lands that surround us shape us and influence our outlook_."

She nodded as she looked up as far as she could, not quite able to see the highest painting. "_I don't think I can ever be truly content without the sun. San Fransisco, as much as I enjoy living there, was too grey and dark. I longed for the brightness of my home."_

"_These paintings came from a family that had moved to Orion as the matriarch was stationed there. I believe they accumulated these images as a reminder of what they had left behind._"

"Just so you know I have no idea what you're talking about over there," McCoy called from where he was sat under a large painting of graduated blues and greens. She gave him a playful wink as they moved over to the next set of paintings.

There weren't as many as there had been in the column beside it, as the space was taken up nearly entirely by one large artwork.

"_This is a representation of the connections shared by bondmates._"

"_It's beautiful."_ And it was.

Two life sized Vulcan silhouettes were stood side by side, shaded green against a black background. White lines, so bright they were almost shimmering, fluidly connected the two figures, stretching between finger tips, linking their hearts and joining their minds. It was simple but graceful and it made Uhura's heart twinge the more she looked at it.

"_They share touch, feelings and thoughts. I suppose you could call the sentiment beautiful._"

There was a wistfulness in his words and his eyes were shining bright as he stared up at the two figures.

"_Since I learned of it, I've always wondered what it meant to be bonded. I don't think it translates well to humans as we cannot achieve that level of intimacy_."

A shiver ran down her spine. She was sure her imagination would do it no justice.

"_Do you ever feel alone, Lieutenant Uhura?_"

She started a little at the unexpected question. "_Yes."_

"_Then you know the curse of an unbonded Vulcan."_

She felt her brow furrow as she turned away from the painting. "_Curse?"_

"_Vulcans are bonded from the age of seven. Many years are spent cultivating that bond until we reach maturity. _

"_To be 'single' is not a desirable state as it is for some cultures. Our minds seek to join with another."_

"_Seven? But how can you love so young?"_

"_Ah, love",_ he smiled then, showing the tips of his pointed teeth. She found that it was no longer as unnerving as it had been before. "_What you call 'love' is a term that encompasses many other emotions -possessiveness, desire, contentment, understanding, respect… These emotions grow strong over time. It is not the 'earth shattering' phenomenon I have often read in Terran stories, but the foundations of a life-long relationship."_

She didn't know what to say. Uncomfortable with Sybok's penetrating gaze, she searched out McCoy and found him in the exact same place he'd been before, sat down and looking at the large blue painting. She sighed.

"_Do you understand what I have been trying to say, Lieutenant?_"

"_I- I am not sure."_

"_It is acceptable. I can interpret the assurance I need from your expression._"

She felt a flash of anger then and she narrowed her eyes. His lack of tact was again astounding.

"It is rude to assume that you know what a person is thinking, must less tell them about it."

McCoy scrambled to his feet when he heard her voice in Standard. "What's going on? Has he upset you?"

"I assure you, Doctor that it is a simple misunderstanding."

Annoyed at the both of them, she strode to the other side of the gallery to continue looking at the paintings. She was relieved when neither of them attempted to join her.

The paintings were just as beautiful and just as evocative as the first few had been, though she kept finding herself being drawn to look back at the depiction of a bonded pair. The image would stay with her, she was sure.

Eventually she ended up back with McCoy and Sybok. They were arguing.

"Art is highly valued within Vulcan culture. It is a controlled expression of an individual's thoughts, ideas and impressions. It makes public what is most private."

"You mean illogical."

"The denial of the importance of sharing is illogical."

"Seems to me like the relationship Vulcans have with their emotions is hardly stable. They don't seem to know how much to allow."

"You are correct in your estimation, Doctor. I believe I have demonstrated as much today."

McCoy looked as irritated as ever but Sybok's lips were parted, twisting upwards before he began to speak to her.

"_Forgive me, I have not yet mastered the subtleties of conversing with a human woman."_

"_The fact that I am a woman has little relevance."_

"_The Doctor does not seem to be offended by my manner of speaking."_

She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot. "_That is a matter of personality, not gender."_

"_So I would do well if I entered all conversations with caution_."

"_At this stage, yes Sybok, I would say so._"

He nodded and his face took on an expression she interpreted to mean that he was pleased.

"Hey look, the sand's stopped flying about."

They looked to the windows and saw that McCoy was right. The light coming in through the glass was beginning to get stronger and the patter of the grains against the panes had stopped. She was almost sad – she'd enjoyed the sound.

"Is there anything else you wish to see?"

"What else is there?" From the tone of his voice, she doubted that McCoy would find anything in the cultural institute that he would find interesting.

"A sample of ceramics is on display, as is a collection of traditional garments and head dresses. A number of copies of the teachings of Surak are available, as are books of poetry and other philosophers."

The look on McCoy's face told her everything she needed to know.

"Sybok, are there digital copies of the poetry?"

"Yes."

"Would it be too much to ask if you could send some copies to me? I would love to read them – my thesis was a translation of Vulcan poetry-"

"It would not. I shall forward them as soon as I am able. Doctor, shall I do the same for you?"

"Not on your life," was McCoy's reply. Uhura couldn't stifle a laugh.

"McCoy and I don't share our appreciation for poetry."

"I see," he was looking at her again with his head inclined. "In that case, shall we depart?"

They walked to the entrance of the building and stepped out. The sun was shining, though the air was not as stifling as it had been on previous days. There was still a trace of a breeze, but it was gentle now.

"Do you wish for me to summon a hovercar?"

She looked to McCoy who shrugged. "I think we'll be fine walking. It's cooler than it's been so far so I think I'll enjoy it."

Sybok nodded.

"It's been fascinating talking to you," Uhura said as she started down the steps.

"As it is talking with you," he replied, not even squinting in the sun. "I am pleased that you have gained as much from this experience as I have."

She nodded, not sure what he meant. "Thank you, see you later." She smiled and lifted her hand in parting. McCoy merely nodded and fell into step beside her.

"We're out earlier than expected – why don't we catch up with the others. We might get to see some of those martial arts after all."

Uhura bumped her shoulder against his happily. "That's a wonderful idea."

"Though I'm not too sure how happy I am to see violence after seeing _that_." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"Oh, shush. Vulcans are pacifists now. They don't even eat meat because they think it's unacceptable to take a life for selfish gain."

"So I haven't been eating meat at dinner?"

She laughed again. "Nope. One hundred percent vegetables and grains."

He wrinkled his nose. "The first thing I'm doing when I get back on ship is replicating a nice juicy steak."

"Shut up, McCoy – it's all psychological! You were just saying the other day how tasty you thought the food was."

"But now I know what I'm missing."

Shaking her head in mock-disapproval, she glanced over her shoulder at the Cultural Institute to see Sybok still stood at the top of the steps. She didn't tell McCoy but she couldn't stop herself from shuddering at the sensation of his eyes watching them.

* * *

Not the most dramatic of chapters, I know, but still important. Let me know what you think!

Coming up next most definitely is dramatic... I'm not sure how long I can wait to share it with you!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Regrettably.

Thank you for all of your support - it's been wonderful. For this, keep an open mind...

* * *

The dinner was not as formal as it had been last time Spock and Sybok had eaten with them, but the food was just as plentiful and delicious. Tapen, the instructor who had given their tour at the Defence Institute, had been convinced to join them after Sulu had promised to give him a demonstration of fencing.

He was reluctant until Kirk had told him that Sulu was the Academy champion and record holder. It seemed that like all Vulcans, he could be manipulated by their curiosity.

"I was surprised at how graceful some of the martial arts were," Uhura said as she cradled her tea in her hands. "Dance-like, really."

McCoy scoffed. "A deadly dance."

"Uhura is right," Sulu said, nodding in agreement. "The strength and restraint needed to perform some of the positions does make it appear quite graceful."

"And the synchronicity," she added. Watching the two Vulcans spar on the mat had been more like watching a performance than a demonstration. When one kicked, the other ducked, where once leapt forward, the other leapt back. She couldn't take her eyes off of them.

"If Uhura's reaction is a typical female one, then sign me up!" Kirk laughed, drumming his fingers on the table in a mis-matched rhythm.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile tugging at her lips. "The only thing you're good for is fist fights. Besides, I'm allowed to appreciate it for what it is." She lifted her chin defiantly as she took a sip of the soothing tea. This one was sweeter than others she'd tried, and was a delicate violet colour.

"With the right motivation…" His laugh was booming when she narrowed her eyes at him. She caught Chekov grinning.

"Chekov, you get it, don't you? Didn't you tell me before that your cousin is a dancer for the Moscow ballet?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Anatoly is really very good. He is the strongest man in our family. Muscles out to here," he held his hands a couple of inches out from his arms. "Lots of girlfriends. There is a holo of him holding a ballerina on each of his arms with one stood on his shoulders. I think in the dance he is meant to be a tree." He frowned.

"A tree?" Tapen was eyeing Chekov closely as if he had misheard.

"In ballet, the dances tell a story set to music. They are normally very fantastical," Uhura explained, hoping that he understood.

"Strange. Vulcans do not perform the kind of dance you are describing."

Uhura gave him a gentle smile. "If you are ever curious, watch some holovids. I think you will be impressed by the control of the dancers."

Chekov nodded again and had to brush his curls back from his face as they fell forward from the force of the movement. "Anatoly has to balance on his toes for ten minutes in one of the pieces. You can't even see his muscles shaking."

"I was not aware humans were capable of such feats." Tapen's dark eyes grew distant.

The Russian turned to her. "Didn't you say you did ballet before?"

She flushed as everyone suddenly looked at her.

"What's this? Uhura was going to be a ballerina?"

She gave an unladylike snort. "Hardly. I was never any good. My mama made me have lessons to teach me discipline – according to her I was a terrible child. Never stopped asking her questions and bothering her. I stopped when I came to the Academy though." She gave Kirk a mischievous grin. "Though it's why I was placed ahead of you in Combat Training, Captain."

Sybok set his dish down on its saucer and swept his gaze over them all. "So humans are not encouraged to have a certain level of mastery in all areas before they reach maturity?"

Uhura didn't really know how to answer that.

"They receive a general intellectual education which they proceed to specialize as they grow older. Physical activity is compulsory to a certain age of schooling, where it becomes extracurricular. The disciplines vary depending on their upbringing and culture." Spock turned to Sulu. "If I recall, Sulu is descended from professional fencers."

Sulu nodded. "It's traditional for members of my family to learn when we're young."

"I see." Sybok paused. "So if Lieutenant Uhura became proficient in ballet, and the Helmsman took up fencing, what physical activity did you partake in?" He looked to Chekov, who immediately blushed. "Your physique is not as muscular as other members of your crew."

Chekov swallowed audibly and the red flush didn't dissipate. "I enjoyed running but it was not competitive. I did it because it helped me to think and work out problems." His eyes brightened momentarily. "The formula that got me into the placed into advanced quantum mechanics two years early I worked out when I was running."

Uhura looked up to see Kirk smiling at Chekov with an almost brotherly expression. Chekov was too pure and adorable to not love.

"But," he continued. "In my family we played thinking games. My father was thought that intelligence was better than strength."

"Thinking games?" Uhura tried not to laugh at the tiled heads of the Vulcans. She caught McCoy's eye and he shook his head as he looked to the ceiling. They were so predictable.

Growing excited at the thought of being able to engage the Vulcans, Chekov shuffled in his seat and tucked his chair further into the table. "Lateral thinking games. They engage the creative and problem solving aspects of your mind."

Tapen leant back a little in his chair. "Osu Spock and Sybok will be more proficient than me in this area. I may be able to best Sybok in a fight but I could never carve with his skill."

"Carve?" Uhura look at Sybok with interest.

"I make often make furniture. A number of examples of my work are in this building."

"I'd love to see some of it."

Sybok's smile was so wide it was almost deranged.

Kirk cleared his throat and made a point of not looking at Sybok, clearly still not comfortable with his expressiveness. It was almost a shame because he didn't mean any malice by it. "You didn't mention Spock – does that mean he has beaten you?"

"Osu Spock's deficiency in strength is more than made up for in agility."

Kirk's eyes widened in surprise and his hand reflexively went to his throat. Uhura was sure he was remembering Spock's attack on the _Enterprise_. The report had been woefully simplified, but she could only imagine what it would have been like. Kirk wouldn't have stood a chance. "Deficiency in strength?"

Spock nodded in a short, sharp movement. "Indeed. My half-human heritage has ensured that I have 78% of the strength of a full Vulcan. Even so, my human half ensures that I am more prone to creative thinking and empathy, which is what Tapek was referring to."

"Boy am I glad for that missing 22%." Kirk rubbed his collar exaggeratedly.

"Captain, I assure you that my intention was never to cause you permanent harm." Spock's eyes were bright as they met Kirks before landing on Chekov.

"Lieutenant, would you give us an example of one of the lateral thinking games? I am most curious."

Chekov rubbed his hands together as he thought. "You will enjoy the word puzzles. I will start with an easy one.

"If a red house is made of red bricks, and a blue house is made of blue bricks, what is a green house made of?"

Uhura got it instantly and pressed the tips of her fingers against her smile. McCoy wrinkled his nose and from his smug expression and folded arms, it was obvious he did too.

Sybok's slanted eyebrows grew more pronounced as he spoke. "I do not understand the difficulty. The answer is green."

When Chekov shook his head, Sybok stiffened. His eyes darted to her and she shrugged apologetically.

Spock arched his fingers and spoke quite calmly. "Sybok, he is playing with words. A green-house is used in place of 'arboretum'. The answer is 'glass'."

Chekov clapped his hands together with a wide grin. "Well done, Spock! But you did not find it difficult. We shall try again.

"A horse is tied to a rope fifteen feet long and there is a bale of hay twenty-five feet away from him. Even so the horse is able to eat from the bale of hay. How is this possible?"

This time Kirk was the first one to answer. "Leant this the hard way back in Iowa. Old man on the Ranch next door got senile and didn't know what was coming or going."

The Vulcans looked perplexed. "Unless the horse has a neck multiple times the average length, I do not know how this is possible," Tapek said, voice completely void of any intonation.

"The rope itself was not secure." Spock's head tilted to Chekov for confirmation.

"I am beginning to understand that you must challenge the base assumptions you have in these situations," Sybok said with a slight downturn of his lips.

"Yes you must. I was taught when I was a tiny child to think this way," Chekov sounded almost proud of himself for the first time that Uhura could remember, and she couldn't help but feel proud either. It wasn't every day you could say that you had outwitted a Vulcan. Even she hadn't worked the last one out as quickly as Spock had.

"This one was my grandmother's favourite. Every time we saw her she asked it and it made her laugh so hard she'd cough!

"There are six eggs in a basket. Six people each take one of the eggs. How can it be that one egg is left in the basket?"

"It is not possible," Tapek said, this time Uhura could tell that he was thoroughly frustrated. Sybok didn't appear to be attempting it, for his eyes were trained on Spock.

"The last person took the basket with the egg inside."

He blinked when Chekov laughed happily. "Yes, yes, very good."

"I fail to see how this would amuse your grandmother," Spock said with an elevated eyebrow.

"She enjoyed telling us to be greedy people and reminded us whenever she could. 'Pavel', she used to say, 'do not share your cakes with your brother. It is better to be fat than hungry' and then she would call us 'гуманитарный' and throw stones at us."

Uhura laughed at Chekov's wistful smile.

"Your grandma threw stones at you?" McCoy was shocked, judging by his abnormally high pitch.

He shrugged. "She was funny. She would sit on her rocking chair by the front door and watch us playing. She used to scrape the ground with her cane until she had a pile of stones at her feet and when she wanted us to get her hot milk she would throw one. She had a very good aim. Never missed."

"What was the insult?" Sulu asked her, getting her attention by waving his fingers.

Her laugh was louder than she had anticipated and Chekov beamed. "She called him a 'liberal', a 'humanitarian'."

Sybok's eyes darted between them. "I fail to see what is amusing. The female sounds mentally unstable. Calling somebody a humanitarian is not an insult."

"You misunderstand, Mr. Sybok," Chekov said, the bridge of his nose growing pink under the Vulcan's attention. "My grandmother, she was very poor. In Russia, life is hard if you do not have a skill. She wanted us to keep the nice things to ourselves to enjoy because when she was young she did not have them."

Sybok didn't answer but Uhura could tell that he didn't understand the point he was making. She sighed. His life experience would never allow him to empathise with Chekov.

"How many languages can you speak, Lieutenant? You had no trouble identifying his words and their meaning." Tepak asked, head tilted slightly towards Chekov.

She sighed and stared at her cup. "Eighty-tree percent of Federation languages and seven Terran. Though Sulu is teaching me Japanese." She lifted her eyes in a friendly smile. "I am a Communications Officer, so it sounds like a lot until you put it into context. I couldn't tell you the first thing about piloting a ship or fixing a broken leg. How many languages do you know, Tepak?"

"Only three."

"And you, Sybok?"

"Certainly not as many as you and I doubt with such an impressive fluency." He smiled again and leaned towards her over the table. "_You should be proud of your achievements_,_ whether it is your position or not, it is still a great number,"_ he added in Orion.

Only Spock understood and he stiffened noticeably in his seat next to hers.

"_I am, thank you._"

Sybok switched back to Standard. "I'm not even sure how many Terran languages Spock speaks. How many is it, brother?"

"I am not your brother. And aside from Standard, Swahili and French."

McCoy threw his hands in the air. "Of course he speaks French."

Spock's brow puckered into a slight frown. "Doctor, I do not understand." He looked to Uhura, and she explained. She was becoming an expert in Human-Vulcan cultural translation.

"_French is considered a very romantic language for humans. Women are often attracted to men that speak it."_ She spoke in French purely to get him to speak it too. It was shameless, really.

"_That is completely illogical."_

"_There's something about the sound of it that we find appealing – Don't you find some languages more preferable than others?"_

He appeared to be thinking. After a moment, he answered. _"If given the choice, I would prefer to never speak Klingon."_

She smiled. "_Close enough."_ She looked back to the others who were watching the exchange with a combination of expressions. Sybok and Tapen were largely passive, though Sybok's eyes flicked between them rapidly, making his dark irises blur. McCoy looked like he was sulking but the others seemed to be amused.

"I got dumped by a girl for a Frenchman once," McCoy said by way of explanation.

"French is my second language – my Nana taught me alongside Kiswahili. I hardly ever get to speak it and I've never been to France…"

Kirk slapped his hands down on the table. "We'll have to steer clear of any ballet dancing Frenchmen otherwise we'll lose Uhura for good!"

She laughed again and swatted the air. She was enjoying herself a surprising amount, considering how emotionally turbulent the last few days had been.

As she poured herself more tea, she studied Spock out of the corner of her eye.

He'd shown no signs that their conversation last night had even happened, but she doubted that he would admit to a moment of weakness. She sighed and he looked at her then, concern in his eyes.

"Would anybody like to play 3-D chess?" Chekov said, and Spock turned to face him with such speed that Uhura didn't even register that he'd moved before she blinked.

"I would enjoy the opportunity of playing you again, Lieutenant Chekov."

"Good. I shall get my set from my quarters." Chekov pushed out his chair and McCoy did the same.

"Hold up there, little Russian, I'll walk with you." He tugged at the long sleeves of his red shirt. "I've got to take this off. My under shirt will have to be enough for you people – I've been suffocating for the last hour."

He stomped off with Chekov following lightly behind.

Sulu looked to Tapen. "Would you like to see a fencing demonstration, or would you prefer to play chess?"

"The demonstration would be most preferable."

Sulu reached under the table and brought out his sword in its case. He caught Uhura's eye and gave her an apologetic grin. "I feel exposed if I travel anywhere without it."

She laughed but said she understood. For her it was reading material. For Sulu it was a sword. As far as she knew, Chekov kept a small stuffed wolf in his travel bag, the last thing his mother had given him before he left for the Academy. Small things that made you feel at home were nothing to be ashamed of.

"Lieutenant Uhura, whilst everybody is selecting activities, might I suggest I show you the carvings that I promised you earlier?" He was staring at her without blinking. She avoided eye contact by looking at the space over his shoulder.

"I would enjoy that."

She got up and followed Sybok out into the hallway. A quick glance back showed Spock watching them and Kirk leaning to tell him something, his blue eyes also following them as they left the room.

"It is not far," he said, his smile showing his pointed teeth to such an extent that she had to look away.

They entered a large state-room of some sort that smelt pleasantly of soft flowers.

"It is considered very un-Vulcan to take pride in your accomplishments, but I must admit to feeling proud of this piece."

It was a large cabinet with a set of cupboards at the bottom and a series of shelves above that were currently filled with books and pottery. The wood was a similar colour to mahogany, and when she ran her hand over it she found it was warm to the touch.

Onto the doors of the cabinets there was a scene precisely carved into the wood. It resembled a forest, the way that the wood was smoothed in places and rough in others, depicting the trunks and sharp lines of the branches. The base of the cabinet showed twisted and interweaving roots, and she stood up from a crouch to follow the story, how the branches of the trees crept up to form the shelves of the book case, and the animals that lived there. Birds and mammals akin to squirrels and mice that she didn't know the name of and insects crawled and perched on the shelves.

She looked back to Sybok to find him staring at her intensely, so much so that it made her shudder. "Sybok, it's beautiful, truly exquisite. I've never seen anything quite like it." She gave him a gentle smile before running her hand back across the wood, enjoying the contrast between the bumpy and smooth and the natural grain and whorls beneath her fingertips.

"I have never heard such high praise for my work before."

"You deserve it." She studied a bird, amazed that when she got close she could see the individual feathers that had been shaped into its wings.

"You know that Vulcans do not approve of external affirmation."

She frowned. "That doesn't mean that it shouldn't be heard. Compliments don't hurt anyone."

"Indeed. Lieutenant, I find you fascinating."

She turned around to find Sybok in the same place where she left him, but the intensity of his gaze had become impossibly stronger. She saw his fingers twitch and she remembered what Spock had said about him being a strong telepath.

"_I find the way that you speak Vulcan fascinating. You interject the words with emphasis like I have never heard it before_." She tried to keep him engaged in conversation so that she could get further away from him.

His head straightened and his mouth opened a little. On a human it would have been a grimace but on a Vulcan she had no idea how to interpret it.

"_Compliments have a way of binding two people together, don't they?"_

Her stomach lurched and she felt her heartbeat increase. He hadn't moved any closer but his presence seemed to grow bigger. She forced her voice calm. "_I don't think that bind is the right word. It is more a sense of acceptance for the traits or actions of others."_ She looked around the rest of the room. "_Have you got other pieces in this room? That small table beneath the window has beautiful legs – they look like petals_."

"_You accept me, Lieutenant Uhura?"_

She really did not like where this was going. He had taken a step towards her and she took a few steps towards the table. Her breath was quickening. He was in between herself and the only door to the room and that knowledge alone made her feel vulnerable.

He was expecting a reply, she could see it in the way he leant towards her and how his head had tilted again. "_In a manner of speaking, I suppose so."_

There was a low rumble and it took her a moment to realise that it was coming from him. A sinister glimmer in his eye and the angle of his head made his smile look even more twisted, even more deranged. He took a slow, measured step towards her, like she'd seen lions do when approaching their prey.

"Sybok," she said as she raised her palms in an attempt to placate him, but hearing his name made the steady rumble even louder. He took another step forward.

"_Sybok. Stop."_

She choked out a sigh of relief when Spock appeared in the doorway, but it didn't last when she saw the fear plastered all over his features.

"_Brother, she accepts me_."

"_She did not mean it in that way. She is human and does not know of our ways."_

Sybok lowered his posture, his back hunching in a posture of either defence or attack, she wasn't sure. She curled her hands into fists to try to stop them from shaking.

"_It is my time. You cannot stop this._"

"_You still have 3.7 years remaining, Sybok. You are not entering Pon Farr. You are experiencing lust."_

She was lost, but she gasped at the admittance of 'lust'. Her eyes darted between Spock and Sybok.

"_Sybok, you can control yourself. You do not want to do this. She does not want this."_

"_She accepts me. She understands. You do not know."_

Spock let out a growl of irritation that surprised both her and Sybok. He turned to look at him, releasing her from his gaze.

She seized the opportunity and with a racing heart took a few steps towards the door, but Sybok span back to face her, his face crooked.

"_She comes to me."_

"_Sybok, I don't understand,"_ her voice was shaky and she lifted her hands again to try to calm him down. "_I don't know what you want from me."_

He looked to her raised hands and stretched out his fingers. _"Let me show you_."

She snatched her hands away as she heard Spock shout "Captain!" louder and with more desperation than thought he was capable of.

"_Spokh,"_ she said, pleadingly, scared and confused. Why wasn't he helping her?

"_He will be gone soon, taluhk."_ He reached out to her and she kicked his hand out of the way, keeping her own hands as far out of his reach as possible.

"_I am not your taluhk, Sybok. Listen to me. I am not yours."_

"_You are not yet, don't worry, it shall be soon."_ His lips were parted and his eyes were intense. He looked frighteningly like one of the masks on the wall. He still approached her with deliberate slowness and she still backed away. She turned her head and saw she didn't have much room before she would be trapped against the wall.

"_Sybok, you're not listening to me. Stop. Now. Please." _He did stop, but she did not and she kept moving back. He tilted his head and for a moment she thought he'd seen reason. She heard a cracking sound but didn't dare to look away. She kept her eyes on his and she knew she was failing to keep her panic from her face. She felt it stretch her brow and mouth in a sharp wince.

"_Now is the time. It has to be now, can't you tell? Can't you see that I'm burning?"_ He lunged for her then and she darted out of his reach. She took advantage of his loss of balance at grasping thin air and kicked his shoulder, sending him stumbling sideways and crashing into the low table, splintering it into pieces.

She moved as quickly as she could, not taking her eyes off him. He staggered to his feet, clearly confused.

"_Talunhk, what is wrong? We will no longer be alone, we will be connected by the white."_ He drew himself to his full height and stepped towards her with more determination this time. Gone were the measured steps. He lunged again and she turned, tried to duck out of the way but his fingertips caught the back of her shirt.

The force of it threw her to the ground, but she caught herself on a hand and a knee.

"_I have hurt you?"_ He said as he moved towards her, fingers outstretched when she heard the distinctive sound of a phaser firing.

She pressed her eyes shut and breathed deep and heavy.

When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and saw Sybok was lying prone on the floor beside her, several singed holes in his robes.

She looked up to see Kirk breathing heavily, his phaser still pointing at Sybok.

Uhura rolled over until she was sat on the ground, not trusting herself to stand just yet. Kirk made to go to her, but Spock held out an arm to stop him.

Kirk tried to slap it away but his arm was unmoving. "What the hell, Spock! What happened? Why didn't you help her!"

Uhura sat numbly, watching, waiting until she had got her breathing back to normal before she tried to speak.

"I could not." There was a crunching and a clattering sound as hundreds of shards of wood fell to the ground as Spock released his hold on the wooden cabinet. It was destroyed, crushed by his grip.

"Why not?" Kirk was shouting now, but Spock wasn't letting him past.

"He was attempting to take her for his mate. If I had acted, I would have initiated _kal-if-fee_. " The strain was evident in his voice.

"What the hell is that? And don't give me that-"

"It is a challenge to the right to bond with a female. Lieutenant Uhura would have been forced to choose a champion or else we would have had to fight to the death." His precise speech was shaky. To an untrained ear it would have been missed, but neither Uhura or Kirk was convinced by his attempt at serenity.

She turned to him and blinked but still couldn't bring herself to say anything.

Kirk let out a bitter laugh. "Primitive! That's what it is! Barbaric!"

Spock looked at him then, but still did not lower his arm. "You have just witnessed what happens when our emotions are not controlled."

"I've seen you out of control-"

"Captain, you have seen a half-Vulcan act out of anger, not a full Vulcan attempting to claim his mate."

Kirk sighed and paced, rubbing his palm over his face. "What am I going to say? What even started this?"

"As far as I can tell, he mistook her apparent understanding of him as an acceptance to be his bondmate, and did not realise that he was experiencing lust and not - I did not witness everything." He stumbled over his words and his eyes darted to Uhura.

She watched the conversation with little interest. Feeling calmer, though still shaking from the adrenaline coursing through her, she pushed herself up onto her knees and to her feet. She swayed slightly, but caught herself.

Spock still would not let Kirk go to her.

"Spock," he said as quietly and calmly as he could. "We need to make sure she's alright. If you're this upset, think how she is feeling."

She blinked at them, dazed.

He hesitated before lowering his arm. At that moment, Tepak and Sulu entered and Sulu froze in the doorway, surveying the room and searching her eyes for reassurance that she was alright. She couldn't bring herself to smile.

Wordlessly, Tepak strode to Sybok and hefted him over his shoulder as if he were a bag of flour.

"What happened here? Uhura?" Sulu asked, resting his hand on his foil case. "Tepak thought he heard something – we were only gone for twenty minutes."

Had it only been twenty minutes? She took a step to the side to stop herself from falling.

"Uhura, you need to tell us that you're alright." Kirk was looking at her like you did with a crying child, eyebrows high and eyes big, speaking slowly and clearly.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "I want to go to my quarters."

"Bones needs to check you over, make sure that you're okay."

She looked at him then, though she was a little unfocused. "I want to go to my quarters, Captain."

"If you're sure. I'll send him to you in a while. Do you want me or Sulu to walk with you? Spock, you can't."

As quickly as she could manage, she walked over to Sulu and put her arm through his. He put his hand on top of hers and squeezed as he led her back out into the corridor.

She picked Sulu because she knew he wouldn't say anything. And he didn't. He just squeezed her hand tighter as she leaned against him and pressed his lips into her hair as she unlocked her door. She stumbled in after letting go to Sulu and let herself fall onto her bed.

She didn't know how long she lay there, staring at the wall until she heard a knocking on her door.

If it was McCoy, he would be able to override the system so she didn't bother moving to open it.

The knocking grew more insistent and a pang of anger surged through her with an abruptness she wasn't used to.

Shoving herself up, she swung her legs around so that she was sitting on the edge of her bed when the door finally slid open.

It wasn't McCoy. It was Spock.

She stood up reflexively and he strode in looking as if a brick wall wouldn't stop him. He stilled a foot away from her, his eyes roving over every inch of her and she felt the anger build up until she couldn't keep it in any longer.

"What are you doing in here!"

"Computer sound proofing." He didn't stop inspecting her. His arm began to lift and she knocked it away with her forearm. The shock of it regained his attention and he moved back slightly.

"Spock." She sounded dangerous. Her hands were fists and her nails were digging into her palms. She could feel them nearly tearing the soft skin. "What are you doing here?"

"I- I had to see that you were unhurt. I couldn't – I couldn't-"

He turned his back to her when the words wouldn't come.

She was not in a forgiving mood. "When you couldn't what? Stop your brother from forcing himself on me?"

"He is not my brother." He spat the words with more venom than she'd ever heard but she didn't stop.

"That's what he was trying to do, wasn't it? And I wouldn't have had a choice in it. But you let him! You just stood there and held onto the cabinet that started this whole mess and -"

"If I had interfered then you would have had no choice at all." His voice was wavering, he was speaking between clenched teeth and his body was taught, tense, like a spring.

She laughed, cold and bitter. "I tried to fight him off and he wouldn't stop! I've never felt more helpless and you watched it. I didn't have my phaser because I feel safe with you around, Spock. I thought that you'd be at dinner and so nothing would happen because my crew and you would be there."

"You felt unsafe when you were with Sybok? You thought that there was a chance of something happening to you?" He turned his head and his eyes were darker yet brighter than before.

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Of course I did! I'm not an idiot!"

"You knew there was a chance but you went with him anyway." It was a statement, not a question and he shifted his stance to face her fully.

"Everything about him screamed unstable but I didn't think that anything could happen! We've been getting that off of both you since we got here but you certainly haven't done anything!"

"You are too trusting."

"I didn't think he would try to make me his mate! How could I? All we'd done is talk and walk around an art gallery."

"He thought you could end his loneliness."

She paced towards the desk and pounded her fist on the chair. "Don't make excuses for him!"

"I am not. I am merely stating a fact."

"Stop being so obtuse!" She strode over to him until they were less than a step away. He was still as ever but she couldn't contain herself. "All I want to do is understand, but I can't because everything here is so full of secrets! We're here to report to Starfleet to update them and maybe help you if we can-"

"You have been given all of the information that you have asked for."

She huffed and waved her hands so forcefully the tips of her fingers skimmed his robe. The conversation was rolling out of control and she couldn't bring herself to stop it. "At the endless institutes, maybe! And we both know the difference between information and well-being. You can spout off as many facts as you like and hope that it will hide that you're all struggling. All of you. And you're not letting yourselves grieve!"

"You have just been forced to see what happens when we lose control. How can you suggest-"

She interrupted, glaring at him with as much challenge as she could muster. "You said yourself that it was a Vulcan attempting to claim his mate. You don't know what would happen if you let yourselves express that one emotion."

He was physically shaking now. "You do not know what you are saying."

"Don't dismiss me! Last night you said it was illogical to ignore advice well-meant-"

"And that was before you were nearly taken away right in front of me!" He was shouting, though his face did not contort like the masks or like Sybok's had. It was a more severe, more dangerous expression than a human was capable but the muscles in his face did not move in isolation. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils fared and his mouth widened to show teeth that were rounded, not sharp.

"Spock," she said, much quieter but no less heated as she closed her eyes and flexed her fingers. "I want to understand. I want to understand what has happened to you and what has just happened to me." She opened her eyes and scowled into his. "Who are you protecting? Because it's certainly not me."

His breathing was heavy as he closed his eyes. "It would not be like with T'Saria."

"I know."

"You may not be able to manage what you experience."

"I know."

"It is best done when both parties are calm."

"Well that's not going to happen any time soon."

He opened his eyes and all she saw was surrender.

"Try your best to keep your emotions from me."

She nodded as he lifted his index and middle fingers and she did the same. Taking a deep breath, she pressed their fingertips together and let herself feel what he felt.

And then she was falling into

_Uncontrollable anger so violent it was constantly brewing, coming in waves that yanked you away from your thoughts and reason. Bottomless heartache that was so dark it was horrifying and ever-present and too much... Aloneness so severe there was no recollection of there ever being another way. Fear that this would never end. Guilt, so much guilt. Betrayal that cut so sharply. Regret and unfulfillment and an aching need. Terror at the thought of losing her too and helplessness to stop it-_

He gently prised his fingers from hers but she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him across his cheeks, across his nose, along his neck, anywhere there was skin. He was unmoving as she kissed and kissed and she panicked but she couldn't stop and she finally kissed his lips and she stayed there, pressing her lips to his and making it last as long as she could before she could bring herself to face what she'd done.

But then there was pressure pushing back, the slightest, lightest pressure but her heart leapt and she pulled him tighter to pull him closer.

And then it was over and his forehead pressed against hers and her breath was coming in short gasps and she didn't know what to feel.

"I am sorry," he said, so low she barely heard him. "I transferred my emotions onto you and it prompted a reaction out of your control-"

"No you didn't."

He opened his eyes and they were so close. The warm brown was so gentle, so tentative that it made her exhale a sigh.

He removed his forehead from hers and she frowned at the loss but he didn't move away. He pressed his face into her shoulder and let her hold him. She didn't run her hands through his hair like she wanted, or move to cup his face like she wanted, but kept her fingers firmly on fabric. She couldn't ruin it by accidentally making him feel what she did.

After who knows how long, he pulled away and she let him, though she grabbed hold of some of the excess material on his sleeve so he couldn't leave completely.

"I'm tired," she said, so wearily that she didn't sound like herself.

"You need to see the Doctor." He studied her closely. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see it.

"I can see him in the morning."

Spock went to distance them but she tugged on his sleeve. "_Please stay, Spock. I cannot bear to be alone."_

He stayed still until she was sure that he wasn't leaving and she let go of his sleeve.

Without bothering to change, she crawled under her covers and watched as Spock moved to sit in the armchair like he had the previous night.

"Computer, dim lights to 15%."

He was watching her, she felt it, and she listened to the sound of his breathing, so much slower than her own, until after what seemed like hours, she finally succumbed to the pull of sleep.

* * *

Sorry, it seems like all I do is end chapters on Uhura falling asleep.

Reviews are love - Please, let me know what you think.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Not mine. Regretfully.

Thank you for all of your support. It's been crazy and overwhelming! I'm glad I'm writing a story you are enjoying.

This is the longest chapter yet.

* * *

She had been lying beneath her covers half-awake for a while before the banging started.

She closed her eyes tighter.

Every emotion that she had felt from Spock last night sat heavily on her chest. They were desperate, oppressive, and it would be so easy to let them consume her…

The knocks grew more insistent. She gripped and pulled the blankets tighter around her body.

It was his responses to her that stayed in her mind, that she kept revisiting. There had been such strong shame for Sybok, for his people, for his lack of action, and it all mingled with her own shame, for letting herself get into that situation, for forgetting that Vulcans were different to Humans, for her reaction to Spock…

She'd always been physically demonstrative, but she forgot herself then and that was unforgivable. Her pillow smothered her groan.

The knocking turned into a rhythmic pounding, matching the rapid beats of her heart.

"Uhura, open up. I have to check you over. Don't make me go get security."

She threw the covers off of her shoulders and on shaky legs walked over to push the pad for the door.

"Thank God. For some reason I couldn't override the system." McCoy bustled in and dumped his bag on her bed. He glanced at her disapprovingly before digging around in it. "And you must have been asleep when I tried last night."

She didn't say anything when he swept his tricorder over her. "No fractured bones or any cuts or abrasions… looks like you got him though. Good girl." He pointed at a few dark green marks on her sleeves.

She inspected it. Sybok hadn't touched her. Spock must have been bleeding.

"I hadn't noticed," she said, mostly to herself.

"I doubt you were in the right frame of mind, darlin'." McCoy rubbed her shoulder. "There's nothing physically wrong with you, bar a little strain in your right ankle, so no running for a while. I'm surprised you don't have any broken bones in your feet… but you probably guessed as much. The most important question is how are you feeling about it?"

'How are you feeling' was _the_ question, wasn't it. She couldn't stop herself snorting.

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine. It was partly my fault anyway."

"Stop right there." McCoy yanked her round until she was looking directly at him. "I don't care what weird rationale you're using to get to that conclusion, but you were not to blame for what that crazy hobgoblin tried to do to you."

"Hobgoblin?" She arched an eyebrow.

"It's fitting, don't you think? And I'm serious. It wasn't your fault."

She dropped to the bed and stared at her knees. "He misunderstood me, Len. It's my job-"

"It's your job to what?" He put the tricorder back into his bag with a bit more force than necessary. "Be on your guard for alien marriage proposals?"

She smiled a true smile then and McCoy's eyes softened. "It was a mistake, maybe. But I saw the way he had been looking at you all day and maybe I could have done something to stop it if I hadn't gone to change my shirt."

"Len, no-"

"No it wasn't my fault? Just like it isn't yours. Now get up and have a shower. You can't go to breakfast with the Ambassador in clothes you've slept in."

"What?" She blinked at him and he pointed at the door.

"There's a Vulcan hand-servant or something out there that's waiting to take you to have breakfast with the Ambassador. Probably wants to apologize for his remarkable skill in bringing up his son." He rolled his eyes and Uhura slapped his arm with the back of her hand. "Ow!"

"He's not a hand-servant for one, and two, Ambassador Sarek has no control over the actions of his children, just like your mama couldn't stop you from hopping on a space ship."

"My mother was proud as punch, I'll have you know."

She gave him a dead-pan stare. "You know what I mean."

"Fine. He wants to see how you are." He gave her one last look over before picking up his bag. "You're on leave today. Do what you want – relax, go see that little girl you're friends with, whatever, as long as I don't see you at the Engineering Centre. Captain's orders."

Uhura huffed as the door closed behind McCoy, but rushed to get herself ready, a mixture of apprehension and excitement bubbled in her stomach and the thought of having such a private audience with the Ambassador.

She still felt shaky and hoped that she wouldn't crack under the pressure of it all. Vulcan's were masters at separating the public and the private, but she had had two intensely close encounters with both of his sons in the same day.

The dark ache she had felt from Spock was still lingering in her chest.

She wondered if he would be able to tell somehow.

With a steadying breath she tightened her slightly damp ponytail and stepped out into the corridor.

Just as McCoy had said, a female Vulcan was stood patiently outside with her hands clasped in front of her. "Lieutenant Uhura, if you would follow me." Her voice was soft and she didn't just assume that Uhura was following her, which was a nice change. She fell into step with the Vulcan and admired her robes. They seemed to flow a lot lighter and more gently about her than the male versions did.

"Where are we going?"

"To the Ambassador's garden. I believe that you will find it pleasant."

They climbed several sets of stairs until they turned into what appeared to be a private corridor. She hadn't given much thought as to where the Ambassador and Spock lived, and it seemed as though this was the answer. As they passed a number of doors, she couldn't help but scan them, wondering which one was his.

They took a right at the end of the corridor and she smelt flowers long before she'd stepped out onto the roof terrace that overlooked the city. Pots and terrariums and planters covered almost all of the space available. She recognized the th'laax and many hardier Terran plants, though the multitude of roses all tucked in the shade was surprising.

Sarek was sat at a small round table and gestured to her to sit in the chair opposite him. She did so sheepishly, though was glad to find that she was shaded from the sun. It was early, but the heat was already prickling her skin.

"Lieutenant Uhura, good morning. I hope you slept well?" Sarek asked as he poured her some tea. She sat with her hands in her lap, not quite sure how to act.

She decided that honesty would be appreciated. Besides, she knew how drained she looked and the dark bags under her eyes would betray her. "I've had better."

His upswept eyebrow twitched and the familiar gesture made her relax a little. There was no need to be afraid of him. "In the current circumstances your inability to rest is understandable."

She sipped the tea and didn't wait to take a further gulp. "This is delicious, what is it?" She peered at it and sniffed, but it was unlike anything she'd ever come across.

His eyes were shining with amusement at her enthusiasm and she looked down, embarrassed.

"Sorry, that wasn't very polite."

"It is illogical for you to apologise. It is ch'aal, I take it from your reaction that you have never tried it before?"

"Oh the Scientist at the Agricultural Facility recommended it, and though I've read about it, I've never tried any before." She took another sip before looking around at their surroundings. "I recognize some of these plants – have they been altered to survive in these temperatures?" She flushed again. "Sorry, that was a redundant question." It was also probably obvious that she was creating conversation to stop from discussing what he'd brought her to talk about.

His head tilted slightly. "Lieutenant, you are going to have to stop apologizing. I am familiar with human methods of initiating conversation and I understand that filling the silence can also serve to make you more comfortable." He pushed a dish of fruit towards her. "I have also found that eating can fulfill this need."

She gratefully spooned some of the fruit into the bowl in front of her and proceeded to add some of the cereals she had tried before and some yoghurt.

"It's lovely to find a garden like this here, but it must take a lot of time to keep it so _alive_. My mama was never attentive enough and she was always so sad when her garden wilted."

"You are from a desert country?"

"Yes, Kenya. Our neighbors always had such vibrant arrangements in their front gardens and my mama was always so jealous." She shrugged. "But she was not willing to get up early to water them and tend to them before the sun got too hot, or buy a greenhouse to keep them in during the rainy season."

Sarek lifted his tea to his lips. "Where one wishes to succeed, one must be willing to make sacrifices."

Not knowing how to respond, Uhura just nodded and continued to eat. She looked over the city and saw the shimmering air as the heat rose from the ground and the flashed of brightness from the way the sunlight glinted off windows and the glass of hovercars. The city was both still and moving, and she surprised to find that the view made her homesick.

"Lieutenant, I am sure that you are aware that I have invited you here to discuss the events of last night."

She set down her spoon. "I am, Ambassador."

In a very human gesture, he leant forward and clasped his hands together on the table. Obviously being married to a human for so long had softened his Vulcan rigidity. "The first thing I wish to do is inquire as to your well-being. Are you hurt?"

She gave him a gentle and reassuring smile. "I'm not hurt, no. I've been told to rest my ankle and given a day's leave. It's a little tender from where I kicked…" She trailed off with a wince but Sarek showed no signs of discomfort.

"Indeed, I was most pleased to hear that you sought to fend off Sybok. If he had been in a right state of mind, I'm sure that would have been sufficient. He has never been especially violent in nature." He gave a short nod and took another sip of tea, obviously deciding not to mention the fact that he could easily have killed her. If anyone was watching it would seem as if they were discussing something as light as the weather.

She frowned, something she had been doing too often lately. "Why wasn't it? I heard Spock mention something called _Pon Farr_. I've never come across the term."

Sarek turned his head to stare at one of the pots of roses and seemed to be considering how to answer her. She picked up her spoon and continued eating, knowing that nothing would make him speak before he was ready.

Having something to do helped to steady her, helped to stop the stress from becoming overwhelming.

After a few mouthfuls, he turned to face her and she noted a tightening around his eyes, as if resigned to tell her something he'd rather not. "_Lieutenant,"_ he said in Vulcan. "_I must ask for your word to keep from sharing this information."_

"_I promise I'll keep it to myself."_

The way his shoulders dropped slightly told her that he'd sighed. "_Pon Farr refers to a hormonal imbalance that is experienced by mature Vulcans every seven years."_

She tapped her finger against the end of her spoon. "_So that's why Spock told him that he still had years until his time."_

"_That is correct."_ He didn't seem pleased that she'd remembered that information. "_If the inflicted Vulcan does not succeed in mating then they will die._"

She blinked and it was a moment before she could move. "_And he confused this with…"_

"_His desire to claim you as a mate."_

She thought that Spock's description of 'lust' was more accurate.

Uhura chewed some fruit slowly. She was sure that they were being honest with her – both Spock and his father wouldn't have been able to have such similar stories without discussing it first, and Spock had spent the night with her… well she didn't know exactly when he had left but she doubted that he would let his father mislead her after what they had shared.

Sarek's tone became heavy with what sounded like disappointment. "_Sybok has always had a gift for engaging the imagination of whomever he speaks to. This however has translated into an ability for him to coerce a conversation to his own ends and his own imagination to perceive things in a way that is preferable to him rather than what exists in reality."_ He paused as his eyes grew distant. "_For all of his assertions on the benefits of engaging in our emotions, he did not think to consider that the Vulcan expression of these do not necessarily correlate to the human experience."_

She nodded in understanding. Hadn't Spock said that some Vulcan emotions didn't have a human counterpart? She wrapped her free arm around her middle as she thought of his smile and how it invoked terror rather than joy.

"_I suspect that he wished to allow himself the freedom to experience the positive emotions without adjusting for the more negative impulses._"

"_I agree with your hypothesis, Lieutenant. However, I must admit to not understanding your reaction. I cannot readily interpret the tone of your voice nor your facial expression."_

Uhura felt her lips lift in a small smile at the way that Sarek phrased his words along with the cant of his head. She found it endearing. "_I am considering his actions in light of a conversation we had at the Cultural Institute. We were discussing bonding and he admitted to his loneliness. I find the situation sad that he felt as though he had to go to such extremes to stop the strength of this ache._"

She shook her head to snap herself out of the memory of Spock's sense of isolation. It was impossibly deep.

Continuing, she straightened in her seat and picked up her tea as she had finished eating. She couldn't bear to have her hands empty. "_It might be inappropriate for me to say that I understand, but I empathise, certainly."_

Sarek studied her then, his face composed and carefully impassive. She drained the last of her tepid tea and refilled it from the pot in the centre of the table. A small insect of some sort buzzed past her ear to settle on the petal of an unfamiliar bright yellow flower.

"_Your detachment from the situation is admirable."_

She inclined her head at his compliment. "_Thank you. I do not forgive him, but neither do I blame him. I would rather not let this define my experience of New Vulcan."_ Her sigh was not discreet, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. She was weary but unhurt. If she'd learned anything from this last year, these last few days in particular, it was that lingering on past events did not bring peace in the long run.

The Ambassador nodded in understanding. "_I am compelled to inform you that Sybok has been removed from the city and will not disturb you for the remainder of your stay."_

"_Thank you, that was most considerate."_

"_Forgive me,"_ he said with sudden directness. "_I have not taken your language preferences into consideration - would you prefer to return to conversing in Standard?"_

Her smile then was wide but she was careful not to show her teeth, suddenly aware that Vulcans may find that as distasteful as she found seeing theirs. "_I am perfectly content to speak in Vulcan. I think of it as a language of truth."_

"_Because of our aversion to lying?"_

She nodded. "_Spock told me that Standard's larger vocabulary allows for miscommunication and the opportunity for deception. For this conversation, I am glad that we are not speaking in Standard_."

"_You are well acquainted with Spock, I gather?"_

She bit her lip as she considered what to say. Her heart quickened as she briefly thought of last night. "_I was his assistant at the Academy and I often sought his company for the opportunity to practice my languages. Many of the Professors were unable to be of much help to me."_ She wrinkled her nose a little at how derogatory she sounded to be speaking that way about her Professors. Some of them she considered to be close friends by the end of their courses. They'd always been supportive no matter if they couldn't help her personally.

She drank some tea to occupy herself and tried to avoid eye contact. Thankfully it was not long before Sarek changed the topic.

"_I am required to ask you whether you are going to mention the events of last night in your report. Captain Kirk has previously assured me that the report will be compiled retrospectively and after you have returned to the _Enterprise_."_

Uhura shook her head vehemently. "_No and I'm going to ask McCoy and Kirk to keep it from the report. I am not hurt and it is not representative of my experience here."_ She lifted her shoulder in a dismissive gesture. "_Besides, our directions were to comment upon the rebuilding process and this does not fall into that category."_

Sarek's eyes flashed in amusement. "_Evidence of Standard's large vocabulary providing the opportunity for deception."_

She laughed. "_Exactly."_

"_I do not hope that you see this meeting as an attempt to convince you to withhold this information. I am merely under obligation to report to the High Council your decision so that we can be prepared for any repercussions from the Federation."_

"_No, I understand. I don't hold you personally responsible."_

He inclined his head and looked out over the cityscape. "_That may be true for you, but it is not the case for your Captain_."

She frowned. "What do you mean?" Slipping back into Standard had not been her intention, but she acted as though it had been.

"He wishes to reduce the duration of your stay. He intends to discuss the matter with you this evening."

Uhura slumped in her seat and pinched her temples between her finger and thumb. They couldn't leave already – they still had a few days left and so much to do…

Folding his hands, Sarek placed them on the table. "Spock shall be taking my place at dinner tonight. There has been a matter recently brought to my attention that cannot be postponed. I apologise."

"Oh, of course," she said, dismissing his apology with a flick of her hand.

"It is a shame because I wished to get further acquainted with the members of your crew. They were most hospitable during our sojourn aboard the _Enterprise_. And it has of course been most interesting getting to know you, Lieutenant."

She smiled. She hadn't expected to be so charmed by the Ambassador. "The sentiment is returned. And don't worry, I'm enjoying my stay here as a whole."

"I am gratified to hear it." He stood, his robes falling in an artful drape. "I must depart. You are of course allowed to remain here for as long as you wish."

"Thank you, but I have plans to see some friends so I won't stay long."

His eyebrow moved as he looked at her with interest. "I assume you are speaking of T'Pan and T'Saria?"

"I am. Are you acquainted?"

"I am not, though I am familiar with your relationship with them. Most fascinating."

A blush prickled at her cheeks as she squinted to look up at Sarek, trying to read his expression. But it was blank.

"_Live long and prosper, Lieutenant."_

"_Peace and long life."_ She returned the traditional parting words and gave him a smile before he went back inside, leaving her alone on the garden terrace.

When she was sure he was out of earshot, she puffed out a long breath. Slumping in her seat, she let herself stay in the restful garden for a bit longer. The sun was not yet high in the sky so there was still ample time to see T'Pan and T'Saria. Besides, her mood was low. She didn't want to cut their trip short.

They only had two days remaining, but the thought of losing one or even both of them made her foot start tapping on the stone beneath her.

A loud scrape cut through the quiet when she pushed her chair back and stood, determined to keep herself occupied and her mind from drifting to places that would make her upset.

Her eyes didn't immediately adjust to the dim and cool hallway, bright white spots making her feel quite dizzy dancing in front of her.

"Lieutenant, are you well?" The Vulcan woman who had brought her here was watching her with interest.

She gave her a reassuring smile that she knew was wasted on her. "I'm fine. It just takes a while to get used to the change in light."

They walked down to the front entrance of the Embassy where Uhura asked for directions to get to the Agricultural Facility – she was sure she could get to T'Pan's house from there just as they had done the first time.

Her pace was slower than usual as she didn't want to worsen the twinges in her ankle, but a sense of peace came over her as she let her mind clear and devoted herself purely to watching the inhabitants of New Vulcan go about their daily business.

She paused to watch a pair of older males play a game of 3D chess whilst with rapt concentration, peered into the potter's that they'd passed on their first day and saw him spinning in exactly the same position as before. A merchant offered her some crystalized fruit but she declined as it was unfamiliar and she wasn't hungry.

The air still retained the coolness the sandstorm had left behind but it wasn't long before sweat began to gather along her hairline and the back of her neck grew tender.

She ducked into a stall and bought a bolt of light fabric in a beautiful print of varying purples and wrapped it around her head the way she did when she was at home. She thanked the merchant, who watched her fold the fabric with curiosity before she stepped back out of the shade and continued her journey at her sedate pace, closing her eyes every now and again and letting herself believe the dry smell of sand and the gritty sensation underneath her feet was that of the wide expanse of land at the back of her Kenyan home.

Eventually she found herself in front of the house and there was a jolt of panic. What if they weren't in or didn't want her there? She had no idea what they did with their days, not really, so was unsure of herself when she knocked without rhythm on the door.

Uhura's smile of relief was automatic when the door slid open. "Uhura?" T'Pan's head was tilted quizzically. "You presence is unexpected."

"I was given a rest day and wanted to see you before I had to return to the _Enterprise_. I hope I'm not imposing?"

"You are not. T'Saria will be most pleased. She is currently in the garden, if you wish to go to her."

She dipped her head. "Thank you, T'Pan. You are most kind." She stepped into the house and went through into the garden.

"T'Saria, where are you-" She stopped still at what she was seeing. The little girl was sat on the ground with what looked like a small bear draped across her legs.

"Uhura!" She swiftly picked up the animal to free her legs and set it down beside her, before gracefully standing in one fluid movement. She approached with dancing eyes and extended her fingers. Uhura met them with hers, pushing inquisitiveness towards T'Saria for the first time.

_Happiness, contentment_.

"Osu Spock brought her to me yesterday. One of his colleagues has started to breed them from the ones that had been taken to the colonies." T'Saria looked at the animal that was watching the two of them with a lowered head.

_Affection._

"What is it?" She started when the animal yawned and showed a row of extremely sharp looking teeth and two even sharper fangs, but besides that it's similarities to the Terran bear was remarkable.

"It is a _Sehlat." _T'Saria dropped her fingers and crouched down and held her hand out to the animal. It lumbered towards her and pressed its face against her palm.

Uhura's heart warmed. "And what is her name?"

"Zihn." The sehlat let out a rumble at being identified. Uhura laughed. Calling the animal 'fuzzy' was apt as her fur looked very soft.

When she said that to T'Saria, the girl ran her fingers across Zihn's back and tugged slightly at the back of its neck. "Her coat is longer than is typical for a domestic sehlat."

T'Pan handed her a glass of water and stood beside her, watching her daughter play with her new pet.

"Spock did this?" She asked as she pressed the glass to her wrist, relishing in the coolness that spread up her arm. It was surprising though that he had given T'Saria a present like this – Vulcans didn't generally give gifts, and it was an even stranger occurrence considering how he had only just met her a few days ago.

T'Pan nodded. "Yes. He said that he believed that the presence of an animal which was hers to take care of may be beneficial for her willingness to socialize. As a result of the _Va'Pak_, she has yet to be bonded, though the time approaches. I wish it to be a successful enterprise."

Uhura nodded, feeling as though she understood what that meant a bit better than she had before. "It is well documented that having a pet has positive implications for human children." So he was experimenting. That made sense.

"I had a sehlat when I was younger. Did you keep any animals when you were a girl, Uhura?"

"My family had a few cats but I never had a dog. The closest thing we have to a sehlat is a bear, though those aren't domestic animals and wouldn't have thrived in Kenya."

She grinned when Zihn trundled over to her and sat expectantly at her feet. She reached down and lightly touched the top of her head. "Her fur is finer than it looks."

T'Saria nodded. "The hairs are hollow to prevent overheating."

"_Hello, Zihn. I'm Uhura and you're very sweet." _She saw amusement glimmer in the little girl's eyes as she spoke to the sehlat. Zihn pushed her nose at her leg and nudged her to make her stroke her, and Uhura laughed and obliged.

She spent the afternoon sitting in their back garden, playing with T'Saria and Zihn, talking to T'Pan and feeling extremely content with the way her day had turned out.

She put off leaving for as long as she could, until she looked at her chronometer and realized that if she left it any later she would be late for dinner and the meeting with Kirk that Sarek had thankfully warned her about. She sighed and got to her feet, brushing off the dust the coated her trousers.

Uhura held her fingers out to T'Saria, who was quick to reciprocate. "I've been spoilt being able to see you twice in one week! I'm going to miss you."

"I would also prefer to keep your company." _Sadness._

Uhura gave her a watery smile. "But you have my comm number so you can talk to me whenever you want. And besides," she crouched to stroke the top of Zihn's head "you have this little one to keep you company." She sent _jealousy_ through their fingers and felt _amusement_ in return.

She gave T'Saria's fingers a gentle squeeze with her thumb before she let her go.

"T'Pan, you've been a most gracious host."

"You are welcome, Uhura. Your presence has been most pleasant. Before you leave, might I ask you a favour?"

Her head cocked in interest. "Of course."

They went back into the kitchen and like it has earlier, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

"My daughter has been reading Terran customs, and insisted that Spock be given something in return for his gift to her." T'Pan handed her a small red tin. Her curiosity must have been apparent, because the Vulcan tilted her head, giving her permission to look inside.

She pulled off the lid carefully, and laughed when she saw what was inside.

It was a little fruit loaf.

T'Pan's eyes shone. "I think that T'Saria considers him a friend."

"I would too if he gave me a sehlat! They're wonderful."

"Indeed. The change in her is substantial already. I hope to be in contact with you soon, Uhura."

She could only nod, overcome with emotion to be leaving them. She gave T'Pan a smile before moving towards the front door. Before she opened it, she called to T'Saria. "_Live long and prosper, little friend."_

"_Peace and long life, Uhura_." Came her reply in her melodic voice.

Stepping out into the sun, she tucked the tin under her arm though her smile didn't last. She didn't want to go back to the Embassy.

She didn't know how she'd react to seeing Spock again. Panic made her breathing irregular, forcing her to slow her pace to try to regulate it. With nothing else to occupy her mind, her thoughts kept drifting to the night before.

Though now the shame and guilt was replaced with a steady undercurrent of irritation and anger. Uhura could rationalize what had happened, but she couldn't stop how she felt.

The happiness she'd seen in T'Saria and how it was caused by Spock made her own emotions towards him seem black in comparison.

She trailed a hand over the low stone wall, the rough texture catching her skin as she moved.

It seemed to her she only had two options.

Act like last night didn't happen, or show them all just how much it affected her.

* * *

She hurried into the room just as the first dishes were being placed on the table.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." Uhura slipped into the seat next to Chekov and put her hand on her chest to steady her breaths.

"We called you but you didn't answer – where were you?" McCoy did not look happy. Either did Kirk, who was rocking back in his chair with his arms folded in front of him and a reprimanding look on his face.

She huffed as she poured herself a glass of water. "I went to see T'Saria and T'Pan and lost track of time. I am sorry I made you worry."

"Damn right we were worried!" Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose. "But now's not the time to talk about it. I want to eat first."

It was her turn to scowl. "Well you did give me the day off so you can forgive me for not knowing exactly when you wanted me back. It's not like I was told." She helped herself to the stew of some description that was in the dish closest to her. Her decision to keep her emotions in check and have a sunny disposition obviously wasn't working.

"Lieutenant," Kirk's voice was a warning. She sighed. He continued. "It's been a stressful twenty-four hours or however many it's been on this planet-

"Thirty-two," Spock interjected in the flattest tone she'd heard from him and she couldn't help but flash him a glance. He didn't meet her eye but she could tell he was amused. She didn't think she was.

Kirk ignored him but the tension had been adequately cut. "-so I'll forgive your tone. Like I said, I'm hungry and I don't want to talk about it now."

Uhura chanced a look at him when she lifted her spoon to her mouth and felt guilty for her attitude. Kirk was exhausted, the dark circles beneath his eyes and the way his eyes seemed flatter than normal made it obvious.

"Uhura, what is that you have with you?" Chekov pointed at the little tin she had placed on her lap when she sat down.

"Oh! Spock, this is for you."

"What, no presents for me?" McCoy said, lip curling upwards as he covered his heart in mock-offense. She rolled her eyes.

"It's from T'Saria." She leant back so that she could pass Spock the tin behind Chekov's back. A shiver ran through her as their fingers came so close to touching as he took it from her. His eyebrow was raised in confusion, but she thought she saw something else there too. But now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"_What is it?"_ He asked in Vulcan, obviously willing Uhura to reply in Vulcan to avoid any potential embarrassment. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"Just open it," she said as she filled her plate with food.

It seemed McCoy was curious tonight. "Wait, that little girl got Spock a present? Why?"

Uhura kept her keep her mouth shut, refusing to be Spock's mouthpiece.

Everyone was watching him as he effortlessly pried open the lid and looked inside before quickly closing it again. He turned to Uhura. "Know that I am grateful."

She saw mirth in his slant of his eyebrows. He knew full well he was teasing the crew.

"_You should not tease,_" she said in Vulcan, going along with it. It was a lot more preferable than a lecture from Kirk and she took his decision to partake in a conversation as an attempt to lighten the atmosphere that he felt responsible for. It would be unwise to ignore his efforts but it didn't mean she had to join in whole heartedly.

"What is in the box, Uhura?" Chekov asked, tugging on her sleeve. With his big blue eyes he looked like a child.

"Yeah, don't keep us waiting," McCoy said, rolling his hand through the air. "What could a little girl want to get you anyway?"

Spock ignored him and continued to eat, the tin placed neatly to the side of his plate.

Uhura looked over to Sulu and saw that his eyes were dancing as he watched the exchange. He grinned at her, shaking his head.

"_Lieutenant, may I ask why T'Saria felt the need to give this to me?"_

She smiled as McCoy began to mumble under his breath. It didn't reach her eyes. "_She wanted to express her appreciation. And she has been learning Terran culture where gift giving is widely reciprocated."_

He frowned a little then, a slight crease appearing above the bridge of his nose. "_I am aware of this, but it is not practiced by Vulcans."_

Uhura shrugged, switching back to Standard. "But gifts aren't given by Vulcans in general, so it's not as if there's a precedent to go by." McCoy's eyes widened at her uncharacteristic snapping. She had never been so blunt with Spock before and he was clearly aware that something was up.

Chekov thankfully interjected. "If gifts aren't given by Vulcans, then why has Spock been given a present?"

Spock ignored him and inclined his head. "But it is not necessarily a gift, but an experiment."

"That may have been the intention, but it isn't how it's been received. T'Pan understands though and was happy to indulge her daughter this time."

McCoy leant his elbow on the table and pointed at Spock and Uhura. "Look, I want answers. Why is a little girl experimenting on Spock? Is she crushing on him? Is this one of those weird things that Vulcans do instead of playing kiss chase or sitting next to him on the carpet?"

The boys all laughed then at Spock's bewildered expression and Uhura pressed her lips together to keep from smiling, though her resolve was weakening and her mood was lightening.

"Doctor, there are so many things that I do not understand about what you just said that I do not know where to begin."

Uhura blew on the stew on her spoon to cool it. "_I think it's time to tell them the truth."_

"_I believe that we should. The Doctor is making incorrect assumptions."_

Her heart skipped a little at the way he said 'we' but she put the spoon in her mouth to keep from considering why. She was determined to keep neutral.

Spock set down his cutlery and opened the lid of the tin once again. "Doctor, I am sure you will be disappointed when I tell you that the tin contains a fruit loaf."

Kirk patted his friend on the back with a chuckle. "Sorry Bones, I know you were hoping for more."

"What! All this leadin' on just for a damn cake?" McCoy slumped back in his chair with a huff and shook his head. "And all that talking in circles – Uhura, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"It's not my fault if you misunderstood."

Sulu cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. "Wait, so that means that Spock is conducting an experiment on the girl?"

They all looked at him then, and his responding blink was languid. It was almost a sigh. "I will explain before the Doctor comes to more inaccurate conclusions."

Uhura snorted as she scraped the bottom of her bowl. That stew was tasty.

"It was brought to my attention that T'Saria had been experiencing difficulties initiating telepathic as well as verbal contact with others. This is unusual as a child of her age is typically encouraged to practice both. With research I found that these difficulties have been rectified in other cultures by the said individual having contact with a creature that remains loyal despite what can be perceived as downfalls.

"As _Va'Pak_ has created this phenomenon where it had not been previously recorded in young Vulcans, I saw the opportunity to test whether this would be a continuation or exception to the rule."

"So you got her a pet because you thought it would make her feel better." Kirk looked at him challengingly.

"You could interpret the action that way, Captain, if you wish."

McCoy slapped the table. "The man has a heart!"

Spock lifted his eyebrow. "Doctor, I did not know that fact was ever in question."

Seeing an opportunity to explain why she was late, Uhura turned to Kirk. "That's why I took so long. It was the cutest thing!" It wasn't really an excuse, and only half of a lie.

The Captain eyed her with amusement. "What is it anyway? A hamster or something?"

"No! That would be a rubbish pet. A sehlat is much better."

"You're gonna have to give us a bit more than that, Uhura."

"It's like a teddy bear - So sweet! She's called Zihn, which means fuzzy." She clapped her hands together and saw that Spock was watching her with his tiny twitch of a smile. She kept her fingers clasped and dropped them into her lap before purging her expression of joy.

Kirk's mouth dropped open. "A bear? You got the girl a _bear_?" He looked to Spock with shock, who gave a sharp nod in reply. "And her mother was okay with this? Isn't it a bit dangerous?"

"Not at all, Captain. Domestic sehlats are typical pets for Vulcan children. They are perfectly harmless if trained correctly and are protective and loyal towards their owners. My I-Chaya saved my life." He gave an almost imperceptible shrug. "Besides, their fangs do not grow to their full six inches until they are two years old, and T'Saria's Zihn is only fifty three days of age. She has sufficient time to bond with her before there is any real danger."

Uhura smirked and kept her eyes on Kirk. "Honestly though, it was like a teddy had come to life. She was so affectionate and kept wanting me to stroke her. I've never wanted anything more than I want a sehlat."

"Then it's a shame we can't fit a bear on the _Enterprise_. You'll have to make do with a stuffed one instead."

Chekov gave her a pat on the arm at McCoy's sarcasm. "Don't listen to McCoy. He is afraid of dogs so the thought of an animal with six-inch teeth probably scares him."

She let herself laugh and gave the Russian a quick kiss on the cheek. He flushed fire-engine red and muttered something in Russian that she didn't quite catch.

"Oh hell, Uhura," Kirk said, closing his eyes. "Don't give me more things to worry about."

She shooed him away with a flick of her wrist and thanked the startled looking Vulcan that took away her bowl. "Don't be so dramatic Kirk." She narrowed her eyes in mock vindictiveness. "You're just jealous it wasn't you."

He shot her a smirk before rubbing his forehead with his finger and thumb. "That I am, but I also wish that I didn't have to ruin this sun-shiny mood by talking shop." He sighed and clasped his hands together in front of him on the table. "We have to talk about what happened last night and we need to discuss our reports. Spock, I want you to stay here for this. It makes more sense than trying to get a hold of the Ambassador and if I'm honest, you're a darn sight less intimidating."

McCoy snorted. "Huh, guess you never thought I'd hear you say that."

Kirk jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

The servers put bowls of fruit and pastries down in the center of the table, along with pots of tea and dishes. She poured some for herself and Sulu. It was the colour of blueberries this time and smelt slightly minty. Uhura resigned herself to the discussion but wasn't pleased at how the pleasant conversation had come so abruptly to an end – it had been so successful in diverting their attention.

She sat up straight in her chair and took a deep breath, preparing herself for an argument.

When Kirk was slow to start, she jumped in. "Look, I told Ambassador Sarek this morning that I wasn't going to include the incident in my report, because I don't think Starfleet needs to know."

"Of course they need to know! I need to write up an incident report!" Krik was furious.

She glared at him. "No you don't, because as far as I'm concerned there was no incident."

"What are you talking about? Spock saw the whole thing! I had to shoot the guy for crying out loud!"

"It was a misunderstanding that was partly my fault." She was tired of saying the same things she had earlier. "Sybok thought I had accepted him as a mate, you said that yourself, Spock. It's a cultural issue that I should have recognized."

Spock gripped the table top as he turned to her. His anger was in the stiffness of his shoulders and in the dark of his eyes, not in his voice. "Lieutenant, you are not to blame. Sybok acted with the knowledge that you were not aware of what you had said, and it is my understanding that he used verbal entrapment to secure the assurances he needed to convince himself that his actions were justified."

She exhaled heavily and struggled to keep her words even. "I am partly to blame and as it happened to me, I choose to not include it in my report." Uhura closed her eyes. "Mentioning it will do no good. Starfleet won't see it as an isolated case but will see it as representative of the Vulcan state of control, especially as he is Ambassador Sarek's son." She opened them and fixed her eyes on Kirk. "I'd rather forget this even happened."

Kirk's jaw was clenched tightly, she could see the muscles tight along his jaw and his breathing was heavy. "I'm cutting the mission short. We leave tomorrow."

"What?" She knew it was a possibility when Sarek had spoken of it earlier, but she didn't think he'd actually do it.

"Uhura, you're not thinking clearly. We are here under orders to report on the state of New Vulcan to Starfleet and the Federation. You're asking me to leave out important information-"

"But it's not important information!" She tensed as if to stand, but Chekov put his hand on her leg to stop her. She brushed it away but stayed sitting.

"Not important information?! You were nearly trapped into a forced marriage!" He was angry now, and it upset her. He was earnest and serious, but never angry.

"But I wasn't," she said as softly as she could, looking at Kirk with all the sincerity she could muster. "Do I wish it hadn't happened? Of course. Is it a matter of two cultures not understanding each other? Yes."

"The misunderstanding was not mutual, Lieutenant," Spock said, his fingers still held tightly around the table.

"Spock, with all due respect, I spent the morning talking to Sybok about Vulcan emotions and bonding. McCoy was there and saw it. There was due basis for a misunderstanding on his part aswell."

Spock and Kirk turned to McCoy, who nodded tiredly. "It's true. He spouted off a speech about breeding out emotions and then they talked for ages in Vulcan stood in front of a giant painting."

"You are being too forgiving," was Spock's reply, which was so unexpected Uhura didn't have a retort to hand.

"I'd call it reckless," Kirk said, folding his arms and fixing her in a hard stare.

Sulu picked up his tea in such a way that he caught the attention of everybody. He took a sip before setting it down and turning to Kirk.

"Am I correct in saying that your reason for leaving New Vulcan early, Captain, is solely because of the events of last night?"

"Well-"

"So there are other instances that you think require ending this mission early?" His cool detachment made Kirk fidget. "Because to my knowledge, there are none. Uhura has been training her whole life for this. Language and culture are her areas of expertise. It is never right to force a woman into associating with you just because you desire her, but Uhura accepted this path and position on the _Enterprise_ knowing that there was the potential for things like this to happen. We all did. In many cultures, intelligence and physical attractiveness is desirable, so there is always a risk.

"I was thinking about this last night. If it had been a male crew member this had happened to, if it hadn't been Uhura, I don't believe that leaving would be brought under consideration."

"Sulu, are you saying that I'm displaying favouritism? That I wouldn't feel this strongly if it were anyone else? Because I assure you that if that loon had tried to bond with Chekov here we'd be having this same conversation." Kirk was shaking and his neck was growing red with ire.

"I am merely stating that I believe that because it happened to Uhura, we should take her opinions on this into consideration. She is the victim and so should have a right to determine how this case is handled without being judged for it."

She cleared her throat. "Sybok has been exiled from the city. Ambassador Sarek told me. He won't be coming near me again. I don't want my visit to New Vulcan to be defined by this, and I don't want this to define how the Federation sees New Vulcan."

The Captain rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, clearly conflicted and obviously not coping. "Spock, what do you think is the most logical course of events?"

"Captain, I cannot say. I can understand the reasoning behind both arguments but cannot contribute as I am unable to stay neutral."

She saw that his hands were folded in his lap and no longer held tightly around the table, but his voice was strained and she knew his opinions on the matter. She'd felt them last night.

Kirk sighed and looked at her. His eyes were sad but resigned. "I'm not going to cut the trip short but I am writing a report. Wait-" He stopped her from speaking with a raised palm. "I won't include the forced bonding thing, partly because I don't understand it so I doubt the higher-ups will either, and partly because you're requesting it to remain private, but I am saying that you were involved in an altercation. I'll keep it vague, but I'm not risking Court Martial for withholding information.

"Bones'll have to give you psych evaluations for the next six weeks, and you're not gonna argue."

She nodded. "Thank you, Captain. And I won't." Her smile was weak and she didn't get one in reply.

"I'll do anything I can to keep this crew happy, I hope you all know that. I'm not letting one crazy Vulcan make this a diplomatic disaster, no offense, Spock."

"No offence has been caused. I am sure my father will be pleased with the compromise." But it didn't seem to her that he was pleased at all.

She sighed.

"Right, ten minute break everyone before we figure out what we're including in this report. No point putting it off now." Kirk pushed his chair out and walked over to the window.

Seeing McCoy and Sulu fill their plates with the desserts that had been discreetly placed on the table during their conversation and Chekov leave the room to presumably get his padd or use the bathroom, she decided to cautiously join Kirk where he was slumped, exhausted, against the large pane of glass.

"Captain?" she said tentatively as moved next to him. "I'm sorry I put you in this mess."

"You didn't put me in any mess, Uhura. Sybok did. The sooner you get that into your head the happier I'll be. I won't tolerate victim blaming in this crew."

She nodded. "I know. I didn't want this to become a big deal. I'm fine. A little spooked, but fine. Really." Uhura jostled him with her shoulder. A twinge of guilt came with her lies. "But I'm really glad that you care."

"Of course I care. This crew is my family." He rested his temple against the window, looking out over the darkening red sky and dusty land. "Being Captain is hard."

It was difficult for him to admit that and she felt her heart pull at how his tone was cloudy with surrender. "We're all finding it hard. We've been thrown into these command positions with practically no experience. We didn't even finish our fourth years, let alone have extended experience on a ship. I made a mistake with Sybok, but I really don't think that you're making a mistake with how we're handling it. Relations are too strained at the moment to risk it."

He looked at her then, his bright eyes dull with exhaustion and uncertainty. She wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. It was barely a second before he returned it, arms curling tightly against her back as he pressed his cheek against the top of her head.

The last time they'd held each other like this was when he found out that she and Gaila had survived. He was clinging to her now as he had done then and it struck her just how deeply he cared about the people that he let in.

He pulled away but kept one arm around her, moving it up around her shoulders. "I should be the one comforting you."

"You just did."

"Oh, Uhura. It's not very masculine of me to say, but sometimes a hug is just the thing."

She bumped him again. "I'll tell McCoy he needs to get his act together."

Kirk chuckled though it sounded as tired as he looked. "That man was not made for hugging. Not me anyway." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she laughed, slapping the air in front of him for his cheek.

She looked up to see Spock watching them, as they walked together back to the table, an inscrutable expression on his face.

Kirk gave her a quick squeeze before letting her go.

She sat back down and drained her now cold tea before spearing a pastry with a fork and taking a bite out of it as if it were a candy apple. She could feel Spock's eyes on her but she ignored it.

"So, any suggestions about how to proceed?" Kirk asked, reclining in his seat with his hands on his head. That man's resilience was admirable.

Chekov put his hand up a little and waved it. "We should say what we don't want to include. That will save time."

"Ah, the ever efficient little Russian," McCoy said, gesturing to the padd that Chekov had brought back with him. "You will take the notes."

Uhura snatched it away and picked up the stylus. "I think I'm the sensible choice, Doctor McCoy."

They ended up deciding to leave out the emotional instability of the Vulcans as a whole, as it was deemed to be a private matter rather than one the Federation had to get involved in, and Spock Prime's using science from the future – there was no way they were going to try to explain that one. Instead, they focused on the facts about the rebuilding, which Spock was more than happy to provide.

"Mr. Spock, I need population counts – male and female, estimated rate of infrastructure completion, fleet capacity, intended contributions to Star Fleet and so on and so on… You know what they want to hear. Just put it in a list at the bottom of Uhura's notes."

At Kirk's command and ensuing gesture, Spock moved to take the empty seat to Uhura's right. She shivered as he swept past her and her breath caught as he took the stylus from her hand. Their skin did not touch, but the ghost of the sensation was enough.

She flicked her eyes up but saw nothing. Not even a blink. She sighed.

"The amount of information you store in that brain of yours is scary," Kirk said as he walked around to peer over Spock's shoulder.

Uhura was close enough to see the muscle in the corner of his mouth twitch and his eyes shine as they met Kirk's briefly. "The amount of information that you are unable to retain is alarming."

She smiled, a little warmer than she'd let herself before, and Kirk laughed, his presence comforting as he rested his hand on the back of her chair. Spock looked back down to the padd and continued writing, but she could sense his contentment.

"Speaking of retaining information, Mr. Spock, have you given any thought to returning to the _Enterprise_?"

Spock's hand stilled. "Captain, your phrasing is vague."

Kirk ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want to come back to the _Enterprise_."

When the silence stretched on, Kirk glanced searchingly from crew member to crew member, but none of them volunteered to help him out. Even Uhura found herself incapable of doing anything but breathing shallowly and waiting for Spock to say something.

"Don't be offended Spock, but let's face it, you're a dream First Officer and pretty much the best Science Officer Star Fleet is ever going to get."

Spock raised his eyebrow but resumed making notes. "Why would I be offended, Captain. All you seem to have done is compliment me."

Chekov's chuckle was loud in her ear and reflexive and her hand moved back to grab his almost of its own volition. His cool, pale fingers squeezed hers tightly and she could feel his pulse beating quickly in his thumb. The Russian was tense.

"Well I'm kinda launching into this whole job offer off the cuff."

"I can see that. You have not mentioned your current First Officer or Science Officer. I expect they will not be pleased."

"We haven't got either. Since the whole reduction in the StarFleet capacity, we've been running on a reduced crew."

Spock stopped working and looked up. "Then who have you left in charge of the ship in your absence?"

Kirk winced before grinning sheepishly. "Scotty?"

McCoy laughed heartily. "He's scolding you already, lad."

"And who was in command when Scotty joined the tour of the VSA?"

"I'm sure whoever Scotty picked was the right person for the job."

As if knowing it was the topic of discussion, Kirk's comm beeped, alerting a message from the _Enterprise_. He frowned. "What do you think it is?"

"Captain," Spock said slightly pedantically, as if speaking to a child. "You will know if you answer."

"Right." He wandered off towards the window again but didn't make it all the way before he stopped dead in his tracks. They waited, all eyes on him, until he finished the message and turned slowly. He kept his eyes on the floor.

"That was Scotty. There's been an unidentified craft spotted just outside the Drema Quadrant."

Uhura stood reflexively. "What nation?"

Kirk shook his head as he met her eyes. "They don't know. The Universal Translator isn't working for it. The Fleet want us to investigate. Or rather, they want you to see what you can make of it."

She nodded and stepped away from the table. "Uhura, Scotty says he can't beam us up."

"What!" Chekov's chair tipped back as pushed himself upright. It clattered to the floor and made McCoy jump. "That is not possible. Scotty is the best-"

"It's not him. He said he can't access New Vulcan. He's being prevented from locking on or something. What does that mean?" Kirk looked to Spock, to find that the he was already talking to someone at the door.

Sulu took a small padd out of his pocket and began tapping away. Uhura fidgeted, shifting her weight from her right foot to her left before settling on her left and tapping her boot heel on the floor, running all of the possible languages through her mind that couldn't be picked up by the UT.

Spock returned as swiftly and as silently as he had left. "Captain, Mr. Scott was correct in his assertion that he cannot beam anyone back onto the ship. As a result of his illegal entrance into the VSA transporter room, the Science Academy has been improving their shields. Testing is currently underway as no transporting was scheduled at this time."

Chekov was facing the floor and appeared to be mumbling at his boots. Almost immediately he shook his head. "No, there is no way it will not let us out."

"You are correct. The Science Academy has effectively grounded everybody. No shuttles can depart the surface due to the dangers involved of the navigational software coming into contact with the disrupter particles-"

"But this is an emergency," Kirk almost whined.

"I have placed a request to allow transport, but those involved were not impressed at your Mr. Scott's superior ability. They have no desire to aid you at this time, so your request will have to wait until the testing is completed."

"And when's that?"

"Predicted noon tomorrow."

McCoy swore. "Spock, aren't you royalty or something? Can't you make them?

That got everyone's attention.

Spock actually did sigh then. "Doctor, being a descendant of Surak does not mean that I am royalty, nor does it mean that I can order others to do my bidding. Vulcans do not adhere to a Monarchy."

Uhura forced her gaping mouth shut. Spock was descended from Surak? That was where she recognized the symbol on Sarek's robes… She stepped towards Spock and inspected the top section of his robes. There! In black thread almost the same shade as the fabric itself, was the symbol identifying him.

"Huh."

He answered her with a raised brow and an almost regretful stare.

"Yeah, we know, Spock's important blah blah-"

"Actually we didn't," Kirk said eyes narrowed at McCoy. "So how did you?"

McCoy realized his mistake and had the decency to look guilty. "Oh, uh, sorry. Spock was a topic in our xenobiology classes."

"You were a _topic_?"

Spock was obviously uncomfortable. "Yes, Captain. As the only Human/Vulcan hybrid in existence, I have been the topic of much interest. Now as I was saying, there has been a request submitted but it is unlikely that operations will be functional before noon. Captain, if you have yet to replace me in person, I assume you have not removed me from the _Enterprise's_ computer system."

"I never got round to it…"

Spock just nodded. "Then I believe I can be of assistance. If you would like to follow me to the smaller of the two conference rooms on the ground floor we shall be able to establish communications with the _Enterprise_."

As he began to turn, Uhura grabbed hold of the excess fabric of his sleeve and gave it a gentle tug. When he looked at her with a puckered brow, she gave him the warmest, most genuine smile she could muster.

He relaxed then, and he opened his mouth to speak but she got there first.

"Can you help, Osu? I've never had to identify a language before and I've been running through the languages that I know, and only Trill and Dreman are the ones that wouldn't be recognized and are likely to be in that Quadrant. I'm not fluent in either of them and chances are that it's an unknown language."

Spock nodded again. "I came to the same conclusion. The chance of a new language in his instance is approximately 67%."

Kirk clapped Uhura on the shoulder as he walked by. "Then what are we waiting for."

* * *

Reviews are love - let me know what you think. I always reply if I can - though this isn't possible for anonymous reviews of course.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sniff.

* * *

"The programme is ready to run, Lieutenant," Spock said, his eyes following Uhura as she paced from one wall to the other.

"Wonderful. How long before the run through is complete?"

"Approximately one hour."

Uhura stopped and pressed her fingertips into her eyes in an attempt to alleviate the stinging.

"It would be wise for you to seek rest."

She scowled. "It would be wise for an Embassy to have coffee."

Spock didn't answer, having heard the same argument from Kirk a dozen times throughout the course of the evening. The Captain was currently slumped forward in his chair, head resting on his forearms, fast asleep.

They were the only ones left, the others having left hours ago once it became clear they were next to useless.

Because the language was yet to be identified, they'd had to attempt a manual translation, and because the Universal Translator worked by interpreting the brain patterns of humanoid life forms, it was of no help because they didn't have access to the speaker.

Uhura found the process immensely frustrating. She'd replayed the recording that they'd been able to get from contact with the _Enterprise_ what felt like a million times, trying to break down phonemes into separate sounds and syllables. But after a while she'd realized that there were striking similarities between the limited Dreman that she knew and this new language.

Because they didn't have many other options, they ran with this connection, and Spock set about re-writing the UT programme to include the new sample and cross reference it with the Translator's Dreman dictionary.

All they could do was hope that it gave them something.

With a dramatic sigh, Uhura dropped into her seat and pushed the padd she had been working on away from her. "I'll wait to see what happens with the programme then I'll go and get some sleep. Why haven't you woken up Kirk?" All she could see was the top of his sandy blonde hair, but he couldn't be comfortable. "His neck is going to be so sore when he gets up."

Spock poured her some tea from the pot that was regularly replenished by one of the Embassy staff. "Waking him would be of negligible benefit. He has repeatedly refused to leave for his quarters so this is the most constructive use of his time."

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. "And at least he's quiet."

His comments throughout her work had not been helpful.

Uhura twisted in her seat to see the wall-mounted screen which was connected to Spock's padd. The moving bars gave no indication of if the programme was working.

"You know," she said as she turned back to face Spock, "I really do think he wants you back on the _Enterprise_. And that whole 'running on reduced capacity' thing is rubbish. Scotty, Chekov and Sulu have been filling in for you, but that can't last forever. He just doesn't want to replace you."

"I had also come to that conclusion," Spock answered, calm and impassive as ever.

Uhura huffed and tapped a fingernail on the table top. "Well what do you think? Are you going to take him up on the offer?"

"I have not yet decided."

She stopped tapping but her knee started bouncing. "Well why don't we talk it through. You said it helped last time." She didn't meet his eye. It was the first time either of them had mentioned their night-time meetings.

He lifted an eyebrow in response. It was a warning and permission to continue in one gesture.

Tucking her leg beneath her, partly to stop her from fidgeting and partly because it brought her body round to face Spock directly, she took a deep breath. It was as if she was about to start an interrogation rather than a conversation.

"What's stopping you?" She paused. "And I can tell if you're being evasive."

He picked up his cup but didn't lift it to his lips, instead just letting his hands clasp around it. She supposed this was the Vulcan version of fidgeting. She reclined a little with satisfaction.

When he didn't readily answer, the satisfaction waned and was replaced with irritation. "Spock, you're going to have to give Kirk an answer eventually and it's going to be soon. We return to Earth after this, which is either going to be tomorrow or the day after."

"I am aware of your imminent departure."

"So think of it as a deadline. Star Fleet have been pestering Kirk to pick a First Officer and promote a Science Officer-" She stopped when Kirk shifted, moving to rest his cheek on his forearm from his forehead. Even in sleep he looked exhausted, faint lines marring his forehead and dark circles under his eyes. Lowering her voice, she continued with more urgency. "And it's only a matter of time before he can't put it off any longer. It hasn't mattered so much up until now because we've just been doing milk runs, but there's a new class graduating soon…" She trailed off and rubbed the tops of her legs with flat palms, letting him fill in the gaps.

He was thinking. His glazed eyes and the slightest of frowns told her that much, but it was still a mystery as to what exactly was going on inside his head.

She took a sip of her tea without taking her eyes off of him. He was distracted enough to relax his expressions and that was the only thing she had to go on.

After what seemed like hours, he blinked and spoke. "There are many things to consider."

Uhura's shoulders slumped but told her herself that she had to be patient. She had until the software finished running to get him to talk, and she was determined to tease it all out of him. "What's the first thing that's holding you back?"

"Lieutenant," he said, meeting her eyes. "I sense that you want me to answer you in simple terms, but I do not believe that this is possible."

She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. "Well you're going to have to try. I'm trying to be your friend, Spock, trying to do what a good friend does and you're making it extremely difficult."

It was low and she knew it but couldn't bring herself to care. She was getting tired of his evasiveness, and detachment. She needed to know one way or another and was determined to get as much out of him as she could.

And it seemed to be working, judging by the way his head tilted and he was eyeing her speculatively. He probably knew that she was trying to make him feel guilty, but she didn't back down. She folded her arms tighter and clenched her jaw.

"As you know, rebuilding is a long process." He stopped. Uhura realized that this would be difficult because he'd have to err dangerously close to admitting his feelings about subjects, and a small streak of discomfort shot through her. Instead of apologizing, she unfolded her arms and relaxed her jaw in an attempt to encourage him to continue.

He did after some contemplation. "I do not know if I can be spared."

Uhura pulled her ponytail tight. She'd expected this argument at least. "Spock, you are one man."

He arched an eyebrow. She shot him a sharp look in return.

"I'm being serious. You're only one person. And you're a Scientist, right?"

"Lieutenant, you know that I am."

As long as he was engaging, she was alright. "And they've put you in Engineering? Building spacecraft?"

"Improving the designs, correct."

"Do you think this is the most effective use of your time?"

"My work is beneficial."

She continued to bait him. "Do you enjoy it? Is it what you want to be doing?"

He didn't answer.

She wasn't perturbed. "And what is it you'd rather be doing? Remember what I said the other night? I'm done putting everyone else first and I'm trying to make myself happy."

Though Spock stayed silent, Uhura saw that her words had had their intended effect. He was staring out of the window.

She straightened out her leg and crossed the other one over it. The chairs couldn't be called comfortable. Shifting her seat over slightly to keep him in her direct line of sight, she started again.

"And what's another one of these many reasons? It's not Kirk is it? Because I know you two got off to a shaky start, but I'm sure things will work themselves out. I mean, you seem to be getting along alright at the moment."

Spock hesitated. "I am… aware that his expectations of my presence aboard the Enterprise may not meet the reality."

Uhura frowned and leant forward, resting her elbow on the table. "I don't understand. What expectations? We all know you're more than qualified."

Though as still and straight-backed as ever, he seemed to withdraw slightly at her words.

"My competency is not in question."

"Then what do you mean?"

His sigh was audible and his fingers flexed, agitated. "You are aware that the Captain had previous contact with my older counterpart."

She nodded. It had been why he was so uneasy about this visit.

"In the alternate universe, it seems as though our counterparts had developed a friendship."

"You're worried that you might become friends with Kirk?" She couldn't even mask her confusion.

Spock's expression was tense. "The friendship was described to him as 'legendary' and it appears to have had a deep resonance with Spock Prime. I believe that this is what the Captain hopes to replicate, though this may not be possible."

Uhura rubbed her eyes. It took a moment before she could bring herself to speak. "And how do you know this? When did you find out he felt this way?"

"He was very clear when we spoke after my counterpart's presence became known to me."

So Spock had been sitting on this since they'd visited the Science Academy. It certainly cast a new light over their interactions – it certainly changed the way she viewed Kirk's handling of Spock the night before. He's been so calm and understanding when he's stopped him from going to her, when he'd usually have not been quite so diplomatic…

She bit her lip absently. Were things always going to be so complicated?

"Look," she said, tentatively but with a sense of determination. "Kirk's not stupid. He knows that there's a chance that this friendship might not happen in this universe, but he's willing to try." She shrugged, not really sure what she was saying. "Camaraderie happens on a ship regardless, and you know that Humans tend to befriend people to some extent if they share proximity. At least you know you work well together."

She winced at the last part, because though they saved Earth, they had lost Vulcan.

Thankfully, Spock didn't seem to be affected by it, but then again she wouldn't know. He did seem unnaturally tired though. She knew he didn't need to sleep as much as she did, but Vulcans did need to meditate. It had been at least a day, and it had been a trying few before it. She didn't know how to broach the subject, but stopped herself. It wasn't that long ago she rejected his own request that she rest.

And a hypocrite was not something she wanted to be.

Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, Uhura tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere and Spock's troubled mood. "Besides, you're not the only thing on the Captain's mind. I'm sure he'll learn to cope if you find him insufferable. He's learned to deal with McCoy pretty well."

It was a weak attempt and he acted as though he hadn't heard her.

She tipped her head back to see the screen. The completion bar running along the bottom was only a little over half way. Taking a deep breath, she tried to engage him again. If she spent any time in silence she'd join Kirk in his nap on the table.

"So is that all? Anything else causing concern?" She drummed her fingers on her knee absently as she waited for a response.

His eyes flicked to hers and his weariness was even more apparent. The pale skin beneath his eyes was tinged a dark olive and with the slumped set of his shoulders, he appeared resigned. "Yes."

She widened her eyes for him to continue.

He hesitated again. It was so uncharacteristic for him to seem so uncertain. "You."

Uhura gripped her knee. "Me?"

Spock didn't answer.

"Why? What have I done?"

"Your actions are not to blame."

"Not to blame for what?" Her attention was relentless, not moving from him for a second.

Kirk shifted and Spock eyed him wearily. She didn't move.

"Is this about what happened last night? That you shared you emotions with me?"

His words were even but they were not easy, his tenseness made them slow and clipped. "That is part of my concern, yes."

"Why? I feel like I understand you better now." She didn't mention the closeness she felt.

"It was inappropriate of me."

"I don't think it was inappropriate. I think it was just what you needed. You came to me, remember? I didn't force you to do anything." Her words were a low hiss in her agitation. She didn't want to rouse Kirk but she was finding it difficult to keep calm.

Spock closed his eyes as if steadying himself. "It was inappropriate. Emotional transference occurred and it provoked a response in you that otherwise wouldn't have happened."

Uhura uncrossed then re-crossed her legs, the hard edge of the seat digging into the back of her thighs. She couldn't deny that she hadn't been thinking clearly when she had kissed him. But that didn't mean she regretted it. And she didn't have a problem telling him so.

"You can self-flagellate to your heart's content, but I for one don't regret it."

He opened his eyes, gaze intense. She held it as long as she could, but couldn't help but look away. His scrutiny was too much.

It was her turn to steady herself. She took a deep breath. This conversation wasn't just trying for Spock.

"Lieutenant, rationalizing events in hindsight do not make them excusable."

Her eyes flashed open. "You're talking about what happened with Sybok now, aren't you?"

His silence spoke a thousand words.

Uhura slapped her palm on her thigh. "I've already told you to let it lie! I'm not hurt-"

"I believe your foot has been injured."

She narrowed her eyes. "Barely! Besides, it's your blood McCoy found on my sleeves, not mine. How did that happen?"

"Cuts were caused by the splintering wood of the cabinet."

"Right, the one you crushed with your bare hands. Why did you do that by the way?" She knew the answer but she wanted to hear him say it.

Spock forced the words from between his teeth. "I was powerless to intervene."

"You weren't powerless!" She caught herself from becoming too loud. Now was not the time for Kirk to wake up.

"To intervene would have forced a bond between us or else made it necessary to kill my half-brother." Spock's restraint was weakening; his furrowed brow and clenched fists warned her she was close to going too far.

Uhura sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I know. But don't you see? There's no use holding it against yourself."

"But I could not protect you."

Uhura bit her lip. The helplessness and despair in his tone was heartbreaking. He was looking out of the window and his lips turned down at the corners. She fought the urge to reach out to him and folded her hands together in her lap instead.

"You can't save everyone."

He was thinking about his mother, about all of the lives that had been lost, and she was too.

Spock's stillness made him seem vulnerable then, his stoicism suddenly obvious for the wall that it was. "But if you can't protect the people that are important, then what purpose do you have?"

She couldn't answer.

The silence stretched as she rolled the line around her head. The more she contemplated it, the more she was at a loss. You defined yourself by your family, by your friends, by the people you associate with… to feel so helpless…

"Spock?" She swallowed. "What am I to you?"

He was upset because he couldn't protect her, which made her important to him?

Her heart thudded in her chest as she waited for his answer.

Spock turned to face her slowly, his eyes moving from the window at the last moment before settling on hers. She couldn't read them, but she was sure hers were filled with her fear.

Knowing was permanent.

"_Uhura,"_ he said, almost a whisper. "_You are hope_."

Her stomach twisted and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Exhaling as she placed her arm on the table and her head on to her arm, she closed her eyes because she didn't want him to see her reaction and she didn't want to see his.

"_Maybe it's time I was something more than hope."_

* * *

Reviews are love!

'Hope' is such an ambiguous word...


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Boo.

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* * *

"You there, Scotty?"

Uhura jerked awake, sitting up so quickly it took a moment before the stars cleared from her eyes.

"How long was I asleep for?" she whispered to Spock as she brushed a palm over her hair. It had pulled loose from leaning on her forearm.

"Approximately ninety minutes," was his reply, though he didn't look up from his padd.

She huffed and stood up, cracking her back as she pushed out her chair. Of course she would fall asleep at such an opportune moment. The way her luck had been going, she shouldn't have been surprised.

"Did it work? What are the results?"

Spock's eyes flicked up briefly but his attention did not waver. "Lieutenant, if you look at the monitor you will see the extent of the translation that the programme was able to convert."

Pulling down her shirt, she stepped over and scanned the screen. "A distress call?" Uhura frowned and rubbed her eyes before reading it again. The few words that had been completely translated gave an indication

"The words 'assistance, 'navigation' and 'engine' make that assumption the most probable." Spock put down his padd and looked over to Kirk, who was awake and pacing whilst trying to get hold of Scotty.

The Captain's frustration was mounting as his voice was growing louder and louder. "Scotty? Come in Scotty, are you there?" Kirk muttered a few choice phrases with agitation as he failed to connect to the _Enterprise_.

"Uhura, why isn't my comm working?"

She tried not to take his sharpness and scowl personally. "The ship has either moved out of range, your comm is broken, or the VSA's experiment is disrupting the frequency. More than likely it's the last one."

He curled his hands into fists at his sides. "What can we do? I need to talk to Scotty." He glared at Spock. "I never pegged Vulcans to be a malicious bunch."

Spock returned the look coolly. "Captain, just as is common amongst Humans, those of a superior intellect tend to not respond well to being out performed by others."

"Yeah, but if you stopped being so prideful-"

"I assure you, Captain, I am not currently displaying any of the traits typically associated with pride."

Kirk flung out his arms in exasperation. "Spock, you know I didn't mean 'you' as in you!"

"Then I suggest that in the future you be more specific with regards to whom you are making disparaging comments."

Uhura took a deep breath and stepped forward, intervening without putting herself in the middle of their argument. "Captain, I can establish contact with the Bridge through the console." She tipped her head back to indicate the system that was mounted in the wall. "We have already gained access to the ship's system, so it shouldn't take more than a few minutes for me to-"

"Hop to it then!" He shooed her away. "We've got an unknown language speaking, unidentified ship to try and save."

"You cannot assume that is what Star Fleet will wish when you inform them of the attempts at translation," Spock said, tenting his fingers and keeping his eyes fixed on Kirk's pacing form.

Kirk shot him a withering look. "That, Mr. Spock, is exactly what I am going to assume. Aren't we here to find new planets and seek new civilizations? And how convenient, we've just so happened to stumble across one in a nearby solar system."

"Captain," Uhura snapped. "We're connected. Prepare to speak to Scotty." With a few punches of her fingers on plastic, Scotty's dulcet tones echoed through the speakers.

"Ah, Uhura, you're a lass to make a man believe in magic. For the life of me I couldn't get through."

"It wasn't you, Scotty," she said, a smile warming her voice. "The VSA's experiment disrupted the frequencies."

"I figured as much but you beat me to fixing it." He actually sounded a little put out.

Kirk stepped closer to the console. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it wasn't too difficult considering she did it in two minutes. But on to important matters, Scotty."

"About the transmission?"

"Yes, about the transmission." Kirk rubbed his face wearily, his short nap having done nothing to lighten the dark rings under his eyes. "I need you to get a message to Command, letting them know that as far as we can tell it's a distress call. We're awaiting instruction but are ready to investigate."

"Aye, Captain. How will-"

"We'll keep the line open this end, Scotty. All the Communications Officer needs to do is open a direct line to HQ," Uhura interjected.

"Okay, lass. Magic, I tell you, if you were able to make any sense of that in only a few hours. Good on ye."

Uhura flushed. "Oh shush. Spock wrote the programme that did it."

"Aye, and a good team you make at that. Scotty out."

The line went quiet and Kirk dropped into his seat. He looked to Uhura, his blue eyes dull but still piercing.

"Spock," he said, eyes moving to the Vulcan at the last moment. "Do you think you could check to see if the VSA are working ahead of schedule? I need to know when beaming will be possible and communication fully restored."

Spock rose gracefully and gave Kirk a slight nod. "I will inquire." Hands clasped firmly behind his back, he strode from the room and out into the corridor, cloak flowing artfully with his movements.

Kirk shook his head. "Damn if I look that good in a set of those."

Uhura lifted her eyebrows in amusement as she slid back into her chair. He laughed. "I know, but they've got the whole 'majestic' thing down, haven't they? Don't pretend you haven't noticed."

She raised her chin in mock defiance. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Captain."

He laughed again, the sound both eerie and obvious in the silent night. As he quieted, he ran his fingers over his lips and his forehead creased into a frown. "Uhura, I'm going to be frank."

"When are you anything but?" Her retort was assured but she wasn't, and she couldn't stop herself from growing tense.

He sighed, meeting her eyes. "I heard what you and Spock were talking about."

She froze. "When did you wake up?" This was not good.

Kirk cocked a brow. "I do believe your exact words were 'you can self-flagellate to your heart's content' – a strange thing to say, if I'm honest. What was it about?"

She sighed in relief. He'd missed most of the conversation. "Nothing important, don't worry." There was no way she was admitting that he'd shared his emotions with her. The thought of taking away that personal, private moment was… displeasing.

"I'm not gonna push you," he held up his hands, "but I have to say, great timing falling asleep there."

"What do you mean?" Panic flitted across her chest. They'd spoken in Vulcan, she knew that, so he wouldn't have been able to understand what they'd said, surely.

Kirk leant back in his chair, folding his arms loosely across his middle. "It's obvious that any answer to 'What do I mean to you' is gonna mean something." He smirked. "And whatever you said before you deemed it fit to nod off got him thinking."

"Thinking is what Vulcans do," she said, resting her cheek on her palm.

"Whatever you say, all I know is that even I could see how much it bothered him."

She didn't say anything.

Kirk sighed and tucked his chair closer under the table. "I'm not prying about what's going on with you two, or how you got his blood on your uniform, which is most mysterious seeing as how you didn't touch him once in there-" he cleared his throat at her glare. "I want Spock on the _Enterprise_ and I think you're the key to it."

Uhura sat upright, her features settling into disbelief. "You want me to get Spock on board."

"Yeah."

She narrowed her eyes. "Manipulate him?"

Kirk snorted. "Honestly, I don't think manipulation is necessary. I think he wants back in his old role but is too conflicted about leaving this desert." Perceptive as ever and just as blunt. She sighed and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "He's on the edge and you're best suited to tip him over it."

"Captain, you can't force everyone to do what you want."

"I know, but at least I can go to sleep at night knowing that I tried." He shrugged. "He's the best one for the job, you know it. We need someone like Spock on a rookie crew like ours. One life-changing mission does not mean guaranteed success."

Noting her discomfort, he continued, softly now. "You're the closest thing to a friend he has with us so he's more likely to listen to you." He flashed her a charming smile. "And if you're not willing to try for me, do it for Chekov. That boy worships the ground he walks on and I don't want to see him all disheartened if we leave here without a certain Mr. Spock."

He was persuasive and he knew it. Uhura kept her gaze fixed on the window, watching as the inky night began to give way to a deep red along the horizon, determined to keep the satisfaction from him of knowing that she'd already tried what he was suggesting. And how badly she wanted him with them.

Kirk slapped him palms on the table. She looked to him lazily. "Right, go to bed, that's an order. Chances are we won't be leaving until midday and you're gonna need all the rest you can get. I have a feeling tomorrow will be a busy day for you."

"What about you? And so sure we'll be sent to investigate?"

He waved away her concerns. "I'll turn in once Spock and Scotty get back to me. Get a few hours. Wouldn't be so bad if this damn place had any coffee." He pushed his chair out with a screech and lounged back. Uhura could see his feet propped up on the seat next to her. "And of course. It makes sense, doesn't it?"

She nodded and mumbled a goodnight before heading back to her quarters, the beginnings of a severe headache creeping up behind her temples.

* * *

When the loud chiming of her comm woke her, the throbbing ache had moved from her temples to behind her eyes. But still, four hours sleep was better than no sleep at all.

She dressed quickly, not bothering with a shower and gave her hair a quick brush before putting it back up into a pony tail. The door slid open and she crashed into Chekov, who was looking a little rumpled but a lot more alert than she was.

"Watch out!" he said as he gripped her elbow to steady her. "A fall is the worst way to start a day."

"I take it you got summoned too?"

He nodded with an uncertain smile. "Yes. I was worried I'd be late, but now it's okay because we can arrive together."

They made their way back to the small conference room and were greeted by McCoy shoving bowls of porridge at them. Sulu was already at the table and was stirring the sticky food with a look of distaste.

"Pock luck which flavor you get," the Doctor said cheerily. "Mine was quite tasty."

"Lucky you," Sulu grumbled as he let the porridge fall back into his bowl with a 'slop'.

McCoy scoffed. "Quit complaining. I was told this is the most nutritious thing you can have to start the day and looks like you could use the energy. Uhura, when did you turn in?"

She swallowed the porridge she had been chewing- hers tasted nutty, "Around four hours ago."

He gave her a sympathetic pat on her shoulder as he took the seat next to her. "Don't worry, I'll get you a coffee with a tonne of that syrup you like when we get back on ship – I sneaked some proper stuff on with my luggage." He gave her a wink and she smiled gratefully.

"Thanks. I take it that means that Star Fleet wants us to investigate?"

He nodded and folded his hands across his stomach. "Yep. Nothing like a crazy space goose chase to get your blood pumping."

"Sometimes I wonder why you bothered joining Star Fleet in the first place, Bones," Kirk said as he strode through the door, Spock following his with his hands clasped behind his back. Neither of them looked particularly well rested.

"Treating sore throats and ear infections aren't exactly the most compelling ways to use a Medical Degree. This way I get my own practice and I don't have to pay that woman every cent I earn." He sat up straight and opened his eyes wide at Kirk. "And besides, who in their right mind could turn down seeing you every day, Jim?"

Kirk rolled his eyes at McCoy's dry comment and sat down at the head of the table. Spock took his place at the console on the wall and began removing all traces of their translation programme from the system.

"Are you getting rid of it?" Uhura asked, her tone urgent.

"A copy of the software update has been sent to the _Enterprise_. I believe it has already been installed." He spoke without looking at her and his voice was as placid and void of any affliction as ever. She sighed but turned back to Kirk, who was beginning to speak.

"We got a response from HQ this morning to the translation that Uhura and Mr. Spock here figured out last night. From what we can tell, it was a distress call."

Chekov set down his spoon.

Kirk continued. "We've been told to check it out, and we've been sent all of the information they have gathered. Sulu, Chekov, co-ordinates are on ship and waiting for you to check. Uhura, like Spock just said it's all been uploaded onto the comm system ready for you. Bones, do whatever you need to do to prepare for contact with unidentified species." He waved a hand at McCoy, who scowled but nodded.

Rubbing a hand through his honey coloured hair, Kirk let out an exhausted sigh. "Luckily for us, the VSA have finished their tests and so we're clear for beaming. We leave in an hour, so pack up your things and meet back here."

Sulu hurried up, leaving his bowl of porridge nearly full on the table behind him, and Chekov quickly spooned as much as he could as quickly as he could before following him.

Uhura finished at her normal pace, having nothing to do but pick up her bag, not having unpacked anything and McCoy leisurely sipped from a cup of juice, probably also ready to go.

"Spock," Kirk said, turning to look at Spock who had seemingly finished with the console and had taken a step towards the door.

"Yes, Captain?" He stopped and waited for Kirk to finish what he wanted to say.

"So how about it?"

Spock was impassive. "How about what, Captain?"

A grin tugged at Kirk's lips but his brows pulled down in a frown. "How about joining us on this little adventure?"

There was a moment of silence, and as he drew a breath to speak, Kirk jumped in again. "Aren't you curious to see what these people look like? Where they're from? What the rest of that transmission says? Because if they're bipeds, the UT's will catch it all and translate it properly."

"I am aware of how the Universal Translator works."

McCoy mutter something but Uhura couldn't quite make it out. It probably wasn't flattering and she winced, knowing that Spock would have heard every word.

Cautiously, she turned to the side just enough that she could see Spock properly. His posture was tense and his hands were clasped tightly at the base of his spine, so tightly his knuckles were straining.

Kirk cleared his throat and moved to get in her line of sight. It was obvious what he wanted her to do, and she sighed.

"Spock?" She said softly and she smiled lightly when he faced her. "It would be a shame if you missed this opportunity."

He blinked but didn't say anything. His head tilted to one side.

"You wrote the programme that made it possible to know that they need help. And you'll be a useful asset to have if they require assistance." She swallowed and wished she was being more coherent. "And, well, like I said last night, I'm still not certain I can accurately translate this language by myself if the UT fails to pick it up."

"There are other linguists aboard the _Enterprise_."

"Yes," she said slowly. "But you know as well as I do that they're not as well equipped for a situation like this."

He was still hesitant.

"Besides," she shrugged, not knowing what else to say. "It's not like we're asking you to come back permanently. We can drop you back to New Vulcan on our way back to Earth. That is, assuming we'll have to go back." She looked to Kirk beseechingly.

"Of course. We'll have to go back anyway – we don't have the crew or supplies for extended deep space travel."

At this reassurance, Spock nodded. "In that case, I accept." He strode out the door without looking back.

A pang of discomfort marred the happiness and excitement she felt that he would be coming with them, but the sense of dishonesty faded when she saw how brightly Kirk was grinning at her.

"Thank you," he said and gave her a thumbs up which made her smile. "Encountering new civilizations is a lot less daunting knowing he's gonna be there with us."

"You know you can't make anyone do something they don't want to," she pressed her fingers to her forehead, repeating her words from the previous night. "McCoy, can you fix my headache when we get on ship?"

"Course I can, doll." He stretched his arms high over his head. "Though did you hear that, Jim? He wants to come back here after. That puts a wrench in those plans of yours."

Kirk frowned but his forehead smoothed out almost instantly. "Hey, the hardest bit was getting him on board." He leant back in his chair and shot McCoy a knowing grin. "And you know that once you've been on the _Enterprise_ you never want to leave."

McCoy laughed. "I'm sure he's going to need a bit more convincing."

* * *

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And next they head back into Space...


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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The cool recirculated air of the _Enterprise_ was a relief and Uhura breathed in deeply before stepping off of the transporter pad. She stumbled a little but righted herself, her unsteady feet reminding her that she'd spent the last week in a higher gravity atmosphere.

Spock stepped down calmly after her and moved to the side to wait for further instructions.

"Ah, home sweet home," Kirk said, hopping down onto the tiled floor with a beaming grin. He looked younger instantly and more awake than Uhura had seen him in a few days. "First things first – Spock, we need to get you out of those robes. We can't have you billowing about the corridors."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the Captain's instantly brightened attitude and possibly his choice of words.

"Scotty'll show you to the stores and your quarters."

"Captain," Spock said, seemingly amused. "I assure you that I remember the location of both the stores and my quarters, assuming my previous rooms have not been reassigned?"

"No, no, never got round to sorting that out either. And I'm sure you do but I have a feeling a certain Engineer wants to ask you about the reactions of the VSA."

Scotty stood up from behind the console with a sheepish grin. "Aye, that I do."

"Very well."

The Vulcan followed the already chattering Scotsman obediently and when the doors hissed shut, Kirk turned to the others.

"Side mission, everyone. I want Spock to stay and it's your job to convince him. I don't care how. Blackmail, tell him you can't do it without him, blah, blah-"

"Captain, isn't that dishonest?" Chekov rubbed the back of his head, eyes flicking to Uhura's before dipping to the floor.

Uhura folded her arms. "We're all going to treat Spock like we would anyone else. He's not stupid – do you think he's not going to notice? I'm not playing any games."

She turned on her heel and walked out, ponytail swishing against her back with each step.

It wasn't insubordination so she wouldn't get in trouble but there was probably going to be an atmosphere on the bridge.

She sighed as she entered a turbo lift. Her relationship with Spock was fragile and she wasn't going to jeopardize it by manipulating him. If he even could be. Even more than she already had. She was certain that if he wanted to stay, he'd stay and if he wanted to leave, he'd take up the promise that he'd be dropped back to New Vulcan. He wasn't on ship in a professional capacity as he hadn't ended his leave with Star Fleet, hell she wasn't even sure if he was allowed to be there.

The soft scent of flowers welcomed her as she opened the door to her quarters, thanks to the uncapped bottle of essential oils sat on her shelf. She smiled as she dropped her bag to the floor and unzipped it, pulling things out and putting them into a pile to be cleaned.

Grains of sand and dust brushed off onto her hands as she folded the clothes, though she stopped when she came to the shirt she'd been wearing on the night of Sybok's advance. It was rumpled from where she'd slept in it and the dark green spots of Spock's blood stained the sleeves…

She shuddered as she threw it into the waste receptacle. No amount of cleaning would ever make it clean.

Her blue gown was folded neatly at the bottom of the case and she ran her fingers over it lovingly before putting it separate from the other pieces of clothing. It needed to be dry cleaned and put in with the dress uniforms. She'd be sure to take it to Maintenance herself.

Just as she was closing the bag, she felt a bulge in the side pocket. Unzipping it, the purple fabric she'd bought the day before fell out. She hadn't even remembered putting it away.

With a contented sigh, she shook it out. Happily, it seemed the fabric didn't crease. No red dust seemed to have stuck to it, so she placed it over the foot of her bed to act like a throw. She was glad she had a memento of the trip at least, especially as how she doubted they'd be able to return any time soon.

Uhura felt a little jolt of regret as she realized that she hadn't said goodbye to the Ambassador, but realized that sometimes niceties weren't possible. It wasn't likely that he'd even have noticed.

Putting the case on the floor of her wardrobe, she brushed her trousers down of any loose dust that had settled there and took a moment to steady herself.

They were about to go on their first proper mission ordered by Starfleet. It was both exhilarating and daunting, but before she had time to dwell on it, she pressed the pad to open her door and headed straight to the bridge.

McCoy had promised her coffee.

* * *

"You're a dream," she said quickly before taking a long, deep sip of the coffee. It was strong and sweet and oh so delicious.

Kirk was saying something to the helmsman Sulu was replacing but stopped and span so quickly in his chair that the poor crew member hadn't realized what had happened. The Captain's eyes narrowed at McCoy accusingly. "You said you didn't share."

"Maybe if I liked you more I'd be inclined to." He gave Uhura a one armed hug to be spiteful, which made her splutter. "Slow down there, girlie – plenty more where that came from."

She swatted him away but couldn't feign irritation convincingly, so the Doctor just winked and stuck his tongue out at Kirk.

"What are we, children?" Kirk said, standing and taking a step towards Uhura. She clutched the large mug closer to her body and covered the top with her hand.

"You keep away."

Kirk pouted his bottom lip but she shook her head, still smirking.

"Keptin," Chekov said as he stepped out of the turbo lift carrying two replicator cups. They were steaming and looked to be burning his palms, judging by how quickly he pressed one into Kirk's hand.

He breathed in the steam with a blissful expression. It was like he was basking in the scent. "I never thought I'd be grateful for replicator coffee-" he took an exaggerated sip, "but oh how wrong I was."

McCoy shook his head. "It's the only addiction not frowned upon."

Kirk looked up at him over the rim of his mug. "Exactly, so stop pretending that this hasn't been a long week and that the first thing you did was drink a nice hot espresso."

He didn't say anything and Chekov, who was watching him with a baffled expression, but shrugged it off and drank some of his own drink before moving over to his station.

Everyone was settling back into their positions, adjusting seats and moving view screens, or if you were Kirk, just spinning happily and chatting to McCoy who was leaning against the safety railing.

Then the turbo lift slid open and Uhura forgot for a second that she was in the middle of re-calibrating the relay.

Spock had arrived.

Everyone was openly staring as he walked over to his station, steps so smooth it was like he was gliding. But that wasn't why everyone was looking.

Heat crept up Uhura's throat.

She'd never seen him in Science Blues.

"Ah Spock," Kirk said, beaming. "You're here."

He didn't answer.

Kirk pretended like he had and clapped his hands. "Great. Right then, everybody ready?"

A chorus of 'aye Captain's echoed across the bridge and Uhura's smile matched Kirk's, who span around to look at everybody before saying, "Hit it, Sulu."

Chekov laughed at Sulu's incredulous expression. "As you say, Captain. Entering warp."

When the stars stretched and zipped into silver lines, Uhura settled back into her chair and listened to the few messages that had been received in their absence. They were mainly housekeeping and updates of the situation back on Earth, and as nothing of significance had happened, she was soon out of things to do.

Whilst absently scanning for sub-space transmissions, she rocked a little in her seat, sipping on her coffee and surreptitiously watching Spock work to her left.

She exhaled a happy sigh. Everything was right.

Even Kirk and McCoy were bickering more lightly than usual.

"Why are you loitering on my bridge, Bones? Haven't you got work to do?"

"Yes."

Kirk tapped a finger against his chin. "Then why aren't you doing it?"

"I am doing it."

"Doesn't look like it."

McCoy crossed his arms and looked to the ceiling. "I'm observing the crew, half of which are running on insufficient sleep."

"Poor excuse. You just don't want to go back to sickbay."

"If I go back, you'll have to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because as much as I can tell, you didn't go to bed last night. And now you're in command of a ship full of people, heading towards a big fat unknown."

"I got some sleep, I'll have you know. Right Uhura?" He winked at her and she arched an eyebrow at his attempt innuendo.

"Usually the guy brags about not falling asleep next to the girl, Captain." McCoy snickered. "Besides, I wouldn't call that half-hour catnap 'sleep', would you, Spock?"

He raised an eyebrow and it was difficult to tell if he was amused or irritated. It wasn't exactly the most professional of exchanges to be welcomed back to.

"I would not."

McCoy raised his arms. "A miracle! We are in agreement!"

Spock just turned back to his monitor. "Lieutenant Chekov, may I ask you a question?"

Chekov looked up, star struck. Without hiding his enthusiasm, he hopped over to the Science Station and they spoke lowly with bowed heads.

Uhura noticed that Kirk was watching them fondly. Even McCoy was less gruff than usual as he followed Chekov's restrained but still enthusiastic gestures with bewilderment. The sense of uncertainty and anxiety that had previously plagued the Bridge had gone with Spock's presence. He was calming and safe and it was as if everybody inherently knew that he would not let anything happen if he could help it.

"Lieutenant," Spock said, looking over the top of Chekov's curls and fixing her in his steady gaze. "Are you noticing any abnormal or disturbed frequencies the closer we move towards the last known co-ordinates of the craft?"

She shook her head. She hadn't been paying absolute attention but she wouldn't have missed anything important. "No. But we've still got a long way to go, haven't we?" She crossed her legs at the knee as she leant closer in to her console. "Is there anything you want me to look out for?"

Chekov answered, his words tumbling out as fast as he thought them. "If you monitor the frequency the distress call was made in, then we might be able to use it as a beacon… but if they are no longer there, would they leave it on?"

Uhura smiled kindly. "It's likely that it was a standard frequency they used to communicate to their planet, so any communications with them would be picked up."

"Ah yes, of course." He frowned and a slight puckering between his eyebrows marred his unlined forehead. "But see if it gets stronger anyway or if there's anything new."

Spock nodded. "It is the sensible course of events. It is unlikely, however, that there will be anything to find. Starfleet have not successfully intercepted any other communications at this time."

"They have not." The excitement at being back on ship was fading as the vastness of this puzzle was becoming increasingly evident.

Spock nodded curtly. "It would be wise to approach this on the assumption that the craft is either unable to attempt any further contact and so is in dire need of assistance, for which we may be too late, or their call was received and aid has been administered."

Kirk leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked to Spock and Chekov. "How long before we get there?"

"Approximately four hours, Keptin, but the range of the co-ordinates is large and not very precise."

"So?"

"So that is only until we reach the outside of the grid of potential places the craft could be." Chekov hurried back over to his workstation and picked up the padd he'd been working on. He waved it at Kirk but didn't keep it still enough so anyone could see what he'd actually written on it. "I calculated a margin of error to make up for the discrepancy in the amount of time it took for the communication to be received by the nearest substation, as well as taking into account the probability that the craft was still moving in all directions because we cannot be sure of the angle or speed of propulsion-"

Kirk held out a hand. "Spock, you make sense of this? It looks about right?"

"Yes, Captain. Lieutenant Chekov's work appears to be correct."

Kirk rubbed his face with his hand. "Tell me, in simple terms please, how big is this grid and how long will it take us to search it?"

Spock inclined his head and seemed to be choosing his words carefully, as if sensing his shifting mood. "Two days, Captain."

Kirk slumped back in his chair.

"You can't stay awake that long, Kirk." McCoy patted his friend on the shoulder but Kirk didn't react.

The Captain instead darted his eyes between Sulu, Chekov and Spock. "But we can pick up a Warp signature from a distance so there's a chance we can narrow that search margin considerably."

Uhura was again forced to admire Kirk's management technique. She knew that he knew exactly how Warp signatures were detected and the speed at which they deteriorated – he had focused on engineering at the Academy after all, but he always asked those whose fields of expertise gave them a voice of authority on the matter. It made them feel valued and important whilst making sure there was complete agreement on facts and courses of action.

It came at the cost of making him seem unsure of himself and potentially even incompetent in the eyes of someone who didn't know better, but it pretty much guaranteed crew loyalty.

"It would," Sulu said, and Chekov bounced his head in agreement. Spock's silence replicated the gesture.

After a moment, Kirk stood up and stretched. "Right. We've got four hours before we can make any headway. Everyone knows what they can do to improve our chances of finding this thing, so I trust you to do it well. We're going to have a further hour to adjust and see if anything changes. If it doesn't, we're going to be working on split shifts. The further we get into this, the more alert we're going to have to be. Any questions?"

Nobody spoke.

Kirk nodded and shook out his arms. "Good. Now I'm going to go and get up to date with Scotty. If anyone needs me, give me a bell."

He strode over to the turbo lift, shoulders swaying. He caught her looking at blew her a kiss when he stepped into the lift. She wrinkled her nose and turned back to her console, hoping that she'd pick something up soon.

She was out of coffee and two days of searching were guaranteed to go slowly.

* * *

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And will they find anything...


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sigh.

Sorry for the delay in posting. I know I promised those of you that reviewed that this would be up on Wednesday, but my internet was playing up and then the weather's been so nice (for once) that I've barely been online at all! But it's here now and I hope that you enjoy it.

* * *

"Captain, we have completed the search of the sector." As Spock spoke, the crew universally held their breath and turned with wary eyes to see Kirk's reaction.

He was sat with one leg crossed over the other, resting a calf on a knee, palm propping up his chin and an inscrutable expression painted on his features.

His whole body heaved with the weight of his sigh.

"Well it was a long shot." He stood up and wandered leisurely over to Spock's station. The Vulcan stepped swiftly to the side to allow Kirk enough room to peer at his monitors without making physical contact. "And there's been no evidence of a Warp signature?"

Sulu shook his head. "No, Captain."

"Uhura, nothing registering on the frequency?"

"Nothing, and no abnormalities to report. Just standard subspace chatter."

It was disappointing. They were all suffering from fatigue - them and the secondary crews that had all been working split shifts tirelessly alongside them, but there had always been the hope that they would find something in the next hour, shift, day that would keep them motivated and working diligently.

Now they were all tired, slumped and quiet, ready to admit defeat.

"Captain," Uhura said, glancing quickly at Spock who was staring out of the view screen, before looking at Kirk. "Shall I inform HQ that we are setting course back for New Vulcan and that our search has concluded with negative results?"

"Yes." He sighed again and looked back to Sulu, who was already re-plotting their course with Chekov.

"It will take 2.8 days to reach New Vulcan," the helmsman said, with Chekov's head bobbing in agreement significantly slower than usual. Spock gave a sharp nod in reply to Kirk's questioning glance.

"Well that's that then," he said, clapping his hands together in a grim show of joviality. "Thank you all for your hard work. Set your stations in order and prepare to be relieved. We're returning to standard operations and normal shift patterns will resume. That means you're all off now until tomorrow morning."

Uhura wasn't ashamed to be thankful for that. That gave them a full afternoon and night's rest, and they all needed to regulate back into Earth sleep cycles. Deviating from it for too long wasn't beneficial for anyone, as they were finding out by their lack of appetites and uneasy sleep.

Chekov waited for her to finish sending her message back to Earth before they headed to the mess hall.

"Disappointing, isn't it?" he said as the turbo lift doors closed, shutting them off from a view of Spock and Kirk speaking intently. "I was looking forward to an adventure."

She brushed the wispy stray hairs off of her forehead but kept her palm there for a beat longer than necessary. "I guess we just got a taste of standard life on board a star ship. I think we've been spoiled this last year or so for things to do. There's probably quite a bit of waiting around normally."

"Yes, you're right. I'm hungry." Chekov stepped through the lift doors first and into the hall, where quite a few of the rows of tables were full. A couple of crew members turned to watch the lift doors open, but when they saw it was them they carried on with what they were doing.

He looked unhappily at the replicators. She patted his shoulder and picked up a tray. "One week of real food – yep, definitely spoiled."

They ate in silence, partly because they were tired and partly because neither of them wanted to bring up the likelihood of Spock's departure when they reached New Vulcan.

Uhura had just taken a mouthful of incredibly bland chicken curry when the lift opened and the noise levels in the room dropped considerably. Looking over her shoulder, she realized it was because Spock had entered and she had to roll her eyes.

They didn't say anything when he brought his own tray over and sat beside Chekov.

Even the young Russian didn't speak until he had finished his food. "Ah, Spock. I expect the change to replicator food isn't very pleasant. The food we had during our visit was so good."

"Taste is the secondary purpose of what we consume."

Uhura stabbed a piece of pseudo-chicken on her fork. "Yeah but it certainly doesn't hurt."

Chekov spoke again quickly, eager to change the subject and break the uneasy tension. "So are you enjoying being back on ship?"

"It is a change from my usual routine."

She sighed and chewed. Non-committal as always and just as frustrating. "Spock, you're not making it easy for Chekov to start a conversation with you."

Spock blinked slowly before turning back to Chekov. "I apologise."

"No problem," Chekov said, smiling uncertainly. Though any awkwardness he felt soon disappeared. "So are you? Enjoying it I mean." He took a sip of water and waited patiently whilst Spock considered his answer.

"The experience has thus far been agreeable, though it is frustrating to see the lack of improvement that has been made to the equipment in the last year."

Chekov gave a gentle laugh. "Yes, we have not been allowed to make any big changes in case we cause damage. When we dock, then maybe we can." He was frowning as he made his stumbling speech. "I think it's so we look completely operational and functioning. We have a lot of people watching us and if anyone notices anything on ground then our reputation will be ruined? I am not sure why exactly, we were just told to leave things alone as much as we can."

"From what Gaila's told me," Uhura said, joining in, "they are looking to make improvements but are doing so from the ground. She's working on improving energy efficiency at the moment and then she assumes she'll be brought on board to bring it about." She shrugged.

"That is a most inefficient way of doing things." Spock put down his fork, plate empty. She couldn't remember seeing him eat anything.

She nodded. "I know, but they're trying to rebuild a fleet. I guess they've just shifted priorities. Why improve anything when we're working just fine for the time being. Gaila's work is general but she's using the _Enterprise_ as the model. We were the newest of the old lot and so the plans and stuff are the most up to date."

"I see."

He probably didn't agree with it though.

Chekov stretched his arms high above his head and scrunched up his face. "Ah, a whole afternoon and evening off! I don't know what to do with all of this time!" He gave Uhura a loping grin. "What are your plans, Uhura? Anything exciting?"

She shook her head as she pushed her tray away from her, finished. "I was going to let Gai know we're coming back soon, and I was hoping to catch Christine but I think she's on shift until this evening. Apart from that, I don't know. Read I guess."

"Lieutenant Chekov," Spock said head just a little to the side. "I believe that we are due a game of 3D chess."

"Of course! We didn't get a chance to play last time-" He looked sheepishly at Uhura who raised an eyebrow. It's not like it had been her fault. "-so why don't we play now? There's a board in the Officer's Mess."

Spock nodded as Chekov rose and gathered all of their trays to take over to the cleaning station.

"Will you be joining us?" Spock asked, looking down at her from his imposing height. She stood up, just to shorten the gap.

She shrugged. "Why not? I haven't got anything else to do."

"Good, Uhura!" Chekov grinned as he passed them, turning back as he led the way into the corridor. "Maybe it will make you want to learn!"

"I doubt that very much."

Spock looked at Chekov inquisitively. "Against whom do you usually play?"

"Sulu sometimes, but he's not very good, Scotty, McCoy, a couple of the engineers like to play. Usually it's Kirk though. He's the only one that beaten me more than out of luck."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, he is very unpredictable." Chekov wagged his finger. "You cannot tell what he is thinking. He sacrifices a lot of pieces for no reason, then boom, eight turns later it makes sense."

Spock looked as though he was in deep thought and Uhura folded her arms. She appreciated a good strategy game, but one that dragged on for hours was not her idea of fun.

"Lieutenant, what is your current rank?"

Chekov smiled. "I am a Senior Master. You're a Grand Master, aren't you, Spock?"

He inclined his head. "That is correct."

"Is there anything you can't do?" Uhura said, half joking and half completely serious.

He turned to her as Chekov opened the door. "I assure you, there are many things that I cannot do, and many things that I likely never will."

His tone was bleak and she wondered if he was trying to tell her something.

Deciding not to dwell on it, she settled into the sofa to the side of the chess set, reclining against the arm rest and bringing her legs up to stretch across the cushions.

With a small smile playing on her lips, she watched as the excited Chekov gestured wildly at the calm and restrained Spock. They were a picture of opposites.

But they were more than evenly matched.

Uhura found herself growing bored as they dragged their game into the second hour. Only a few pieces of each colour had been taken and whilst their excitement at the challenge was growing, she began to think of polite ways she could extract herself from the situation to go and find Christine.

The door opened and Kirk appeared. His pale skin was flushed and there was a tightness around his eyes that belied his stress. "Spock, I could do with your help."

Spock looked up, fingers resting on the top of a rook. "What is the problem?"

"One of the engineers has just reported a glitch in the memory banks of the recognition software. He's been trying for around ten minutes to get into one of the workshops but it's not recognizing his handprint. Or something like that." He ran his fingers through his hair as he puffed out his cheeks. "The tech didn't know what was wrong and the only other person that would is Scotty, but the computer says he's in his quarters and Lord knows he doesn't get enough rest as it is…"

Spock moved his rook and stood up. "Lieutenant, are you agreeable to continuing this game at another time?"

Chekov's shoulders slumped but he nodded. "Of course. I shall make sure no one disrupts the pieces."

With a short nod, Spock gracefully walked around Kirk who was stood in the doorway and out into the corridor.

Kirk shot her a wink before following the Vulcan, calling out to him as the door slid shut.

Uhura sighed and flopped her head against one of the cushions. "If this is all a stupid plan from Kirk I'm going to be so mad."

Chekov nodded, staring at the chessboard. "Yes, it is possible, but I don't think he would sabotage the ship just to keep Spock here. Things like this go wrong all of the time."

"I know. It's just the timing is so suspicious." With exaggerated weariness, she heaved herself over so she was perched on the edge of the sofa. "You never know, one day you might be able to finish a game without being interrupted by one crisis or another."

He smiled wryly. "Perhaps it is just not meant to be."

She laughed and squeezed his shoulder as she brushed past him. "I'm going to track down Christine, and failing that I'm going to get some cake. You coming?"

Chekov wrinkled his nose. "If you're going to be gossiping with Christine then I'll say no."

"Come on, don't pretend you don't enjoy it – besides, think of all the happenings that have happened in the week we've been away! And with no members of the primary Bridge crew present at that!"

He shook his head with a wider smile. "No, no. I know you'll be talking about us to her as well and it is just awkward if I am there. I will find something to do."

"Okay then, see you later." She headed straight to the lift and down towards sick bay. If she wasn't there she'd be sat in the seating area above the gym.

Sure enough, Christine Chapel was sat at one of the small round tables, leering through the plexi-glass at the exercising crew members.

"It's kind of ironic, you spending your time watching them when you could be down there actually _with_ them."

Christine jumped and clutched her hand to her heart. "Good God girl! Make me jump why don't you!"

Uhura laughed and got a cup of tea from the replicator before joining her friend.

The nurse narrowed her light blue eyes. "You look exhausted. And how's your ankle?"

"My ankle?"

"Len told me to ask you if it was healing up alright."

She looked down at her foot and rolled her ankle. She honestly hadn't thought about it. "It isn't hurting at all."

Christine turned to survey the court below where around twenty or so of the crew were sparring. "If you say so. I saw you scheduled for therapy with Len on Monday. What happened?"

"Nothing _happened_." She sighed. "A Vulcan tried to force himself on me and it shook everyone up pretty bad. I'm fine though, really. No lasting damage." She looked down into her cup to avoid Christine's wide eyes.

"Wow. Didn't see that one coming. So what happened exactly?" Her eyes were sympathetic and she reached over to put her hand on Uhura's wrist. She smiled gratefully.

"I really don't know how much I can tell you before Kirk sends his report to HQ. You know how sensitive this all was…"

Christine raised her hands. "No no, don't worry about it, I understand. If you say you're okay, that's good enough for me." She sent her a sly grin. "And I of course know the dangers of gossip. One wrong word and poof! people are in trouble from here to China."

Uhura relaxed. She knew she could trust Christine not to pry, though she would have to tell her eventually. The woman was patient but relentless. "You're a gem."

She laughed and fluffed her hair. "It's a shame more people don't recognize it."

Sipping her tea through her smile, Uhura slouched back into the uncomfortable plastic seat. "So, what's been going on here? Any news?"

"Sadly not." Christine's blonde hair bobbed around her face. "There's been whispers of returning to Earth so a lot of people have started preparing for it. You know, arranging trips back home, getting there things together, that sort of thing."

"Only two days until we reach New Vulcan, so it's really not long before we're back."

"Is that all? Goodness. Why are we stopping back there?"

Uhura crossed her legs and wrapped her hands around the warm cup. The coolness of the ship had been inviting to begin with, but she felt the chill if she kept still too long. "We have to finish matters with the Ambassador and drop Spock back."

She had Christine's full attention now. "He's not staying?"

"I don't think so. Kirk wants him to – pretty desperately, actually, but you know it's not an easy decision to make. Especially with all that's happening on New Vulcan."

"I suppose you can't tell me anything that you found there either." Christine pouted her lips as she huffed.

"Sorry."

"Ugh, all this secrecy. No wonder why they have trouble keeping on top of all the rumours."

"What rumours?"

Christine waved her hand around as she spoke, her nails a pale pink. "You know, the standard ones – breeding programmes, eugenics, labour camps-"

"I have no trouble telling you those things aren't true in the slightest! There are millions of Vulcans on that planet and they're all working hard, yes, but they're not slaves!"

The nurse looked thoughtful, glancing up at the ceiling. "I suppose slavery would be illogical to them… wait, millions? They're not having some kind of population crisis?"

Uhura shook her head, almost violently, ponytail swinging around her neck. "No! Not at all. They're all just getting on as best they can."

"Oh."

They were quiet then, Uhura sipping her tea and Christine staring absently at the people exercising below. A group of women came up, sweaty from exertion and drank cups of water and ate protein bars whilst discussing how to improve their game. They paid no mind to the two of them and left after a few minutes to go and shower.

"Then why is Spock having trouble committing to coming back?"

Uhura sighed. She didn't want anyone else knowing how close she'd gotten to Spock over the course of the week – for his sake as well as hers. She wouldn't tell Christine everything but she wasn't comfortable lying to her either.

"He has a job there, important work to do. Their population isn't in crisis but it takes time to rebuild a planet so its people can live comfortably and prepare for the future."

"I suppose. But isn't he the Ambassador's son? Wouldn't it do the Vulcans good if everybody saw that Spock was ready to rejoin Starfleet? I mean, that would quash the rumours wouldn't it? If they could spare him to travel the universe or whatever."

It took Uhura a moment to respond.

"Christine," she said slowly, leaning forward slightly. "If you say that to Kirk, I'm pretty sure he'll give you anything you want."

"Wait, what?" Christine frowned in confusion.

"That's what he needs to tell Spock to get him to stay on the ship. That way he's helping his people at the same time as doing what he wants – because I'm pretty sure that Spock wants to come back to the _Enterprise_."

She scoffed. "Really? But that's the first thing I thought! Why hasn't he come up with that himself?"

Uhura shrugged. "I don't know. Some things are more obvious to some than others. Besides, Vulcans don't take how other people see them as very important, so how the last year has impacted their image on other planets probably hasn't ranked very high in important things to consider." Inwardly, she was kicking herself that she hadn't thought of it herself. It was so obvious!

"And you think it'll help?"

"Well it's not going to hurt is it?" Uhura leant back and eyed her friend suspiciously. "Why are you so eager for Spock to stay on board, anyway? It's not like you'll have to work with him."

Christine's answering smile was predatory. "Have you seen him? He's the definition of tall, dark and handsome. And don't give me that look, I know you've noticed."

Heat pricked at Uhura's cheeks and she was glad, not for the first time, that her blushes weren't as visible on her darker skin.

"I don't know a single girl on this ship, or at the Academy for that matter, that didn't appreciate that about the man at least."

Uhura groaned, good naturedly teasing her friend. "I should have known, you're just like Kirk."

Christine laughed, the sound warm and friendly. "And that's another man whose looks haven't gone unnoticed." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I don't know how you get anything done up on that Bridge, I'm telling you. It's hard enough trying to keep the good Doctor from catching me watching."

"McCoy? No!"

"Oh yes. You forget, because I've aged so gracefully, that I've got a good few years on you. Something about his world-weary attitude is just so _alluring_." She bat her lashes exaggeratedly and Uhura threw back her head with a cackle.

"Christine, you're too much!"

"Keep it under your hat – can't have him knowing. His head's big enough as it is." She got up and tucked her chair under the table. "Right, I'm going to find that dashing young Captain of ours and tell him my ground breaking revelation. Wanna get dinner later? I'm off until ten."

"I'll see you in the mess hall, right?"

"Gotcha." She gave Uhura a quick hug. Just as she stepped into the turbo lift, she called out. "It's good having you back, sweetie, just take care of yourself better next time, okay?"

And then she was gone and Uhura was alone.

Maybe she'd have to go and find some cake after all.

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Reviews are love!

And will Christine's idea work?


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, still not mine.

Sorry this is so late (again). I had my uni graduation, trouble with wifi and the blistering heat has made it nearly impossible to do anything but wilt against a chair and eat ice lollies. So I haven't had a chance to reply to reviews, but I figured you'd rather get the chapter than a note from me, so here you are!

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The heel of Uhura's boot tapped the tiled floor in a staccato beat, her knee jiggling as she bit the nail of her thumb.

Scotty had ran up to the Bridge the moment Kirk and Spock had beamed down to New Vulcan. "Worrying is dangerous when yer alone, laddie," he'd said to Chekov, who had frowned in question when the red-headed Scotsman had stepped out of the turbo lift.

In her opinion, it wasn't any less dangerous in a group either.

They were all fidgeting and sighing – even Sulu was drumming his fingers on the console and shifting in his seat, uneasy.

They didn't know how long they'd be waiting but she hoped that it wouldn't be too long. She didn't think that she could cope with her churning stomach if Kirk's debriefing with Sarek dragged on.

But then again she didn't want him to hurry back without Spock in tow.

She huffed and dropped her chin onto her arm as she slumped forward across her console.

"Chin up, darlin'," McCoy said as he plonked a cup of tea in front of her. "Moping about it won't change the outcome."

She raised an eyebrow but sat up, cradling the hot mug in her hands.

"Don't shoot me that look," he said, a shadow of a smile lifting his lips as he turned to lean beside her chair. "Jim always gets what he wants"

Uhura snorted and McCoy grinned. "Well, almost everything." He winked in allusion to Kirk and Uhura's first meeting, before pushing off and handing a cup to Chekov.

"You're not worried are you, boy?"

Chekov shook his head and sucked his bottom lip, taking the cup and resting it on his knee. "I think Spock will come back, but I don't know for certain. There are many reasons why he should stay with us but there are many reasons why he shouldn't. It's up to him." He shrugged and brought his cup to his lips, avoiding eye contact with everybody.

Uhura sighed and did the same. She was tempted to open communication with Kirk but it would be unprofessional to call him for what was essentially gossip.

She hadn't seen Spock since he had left his and Chekov's chess game until the following day when she started her shift. He was stood, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at his monitor with a concentration that wasn't disturbed by anything going on around him.

She'd kept quiet, sneaking furtive glances at him throughout her shift that she was sure he'd picked up on. Occasionally he would take a deep breath and his torso would move slightly, as if to turn towards her, but he always stopped before their eyes could meet.

As the relief crew stepped forward to take their positions, Uhura's stomach leapt with excitement that had been building for the last three hours. As she stood and looked for Spock, a smile graced her lips with the intention to ask him if he wanted to join her for dinner.

But it fell when she saw him stride towards the turbo lift and the doors closed with him alone, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

"He said he needs to meditate," Chekov said glumly. He patted her arm softly and she looped hers through his and leant her head on his shoulder.

And neither of them had seen him since. He and Kirk had beamed down as soon as they could, which unfortunately was at a time when Uhura was tossing and turning in her bed.

"I did get used to seeing him roaming the corridors," McCoy said, eyes unfocussed, staring at the ceiling contemplatively. "And he is a useful chap to have around."

"Doctor!" Scotty said, pressing his palms to his cheeks and widening his eyes mockingly. "Are you admitting you want the hob goblin to return?"

"What happened to your indifference?" Sulu asked, voice unaccusing but amusement warming his features.

McCoy glared at them. "I was stating facts, not opinions."

They were quiet after that, working as diligently as they could under the circumstances and sending reassuring smiles when their wandering eyes met a worried glance.

The silence was about to reach breaking point with how wound up Uhura felt, but it was broken by Scotty's comm buzzing, telling him to get back to the transporter room.

"Must dash," he said, winking at her as she jogged past. She thought she was going to be sick.

She stood up and began pacing. "Why couldn't I have gone down there with them?" she said, somewhat rhetorically.

"Because you weren't needed," McCoy said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"And because it wouldn't have been fair," Chekov added with a smirk that helped to cool her ire.

She threw herself back into her seat and resumed tapping her heel against the floor again as the minutes dragged on and her stomach twisted itself into more knots.

They jumped when the quiet hissing of the turbo lift broke the tension and they all turned to the doors with held breaths, waiting with unbearable tension to see who was arriving.

The doors slid open to reveal a blonde head with a self-satisfied smirk. He stepped forward with open arms as if embracing a crowd.

And behind him, a tall dark figure emerged with an impassive expression and Uhura choked out the breath she was holding with a hand to her chest.

She beamed at him as he strode past her on his way to the Science station, and she could have sworn that there was a shadow of a smile when he looked at her.

The crew were watching him and congratulating Kirk discreetly, smiling at him and mouthing their 'well dones', but she knew that Spock wouldn't be anywhere he didn't want to.

And that made her extremely happy.

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Ta Dah! That was the final chapter of 'One'. I have planned the next section (not surprisingly called 'Many') which will centre on a courtship on a starship and though it was sensible for this to end here as the pace will change considerably.

Because of my increasingly busy life, I'm not going to post the story until I have a substantial back-log of chapters. I don't like updating irregularly because readers forget what happened in the last chapter, if they keep reading at all. I'll probably bombard you with one-shots for the time being. I hope you understand.

I want to say thank you to everyone who read, favourited and reviewed! This is the most 'successful' story I've written so far and I want you to know how grateful I am :)

See you soon,

Aniseed.


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